Black Sheep
by samanthavee
Summary: Erik has been rescued from a most certain death, by none other than Raouls derelict younger sister, Kerri. Can he live amidst them in peace?
1. Chapter 1

Kerri had always been adventurous. That's why when everyone else was running away from the fire, she was running behind it. She knew the legends, and she wanted to find out if the were true.

A group of men were trying to get past one of the chorus girls who was blocking the doorway. Suddenly, she let them all though, joining two men near the front. Kerri followed them, not worrying about the dress she was wearing or what might happen once they all found him.

The trip seemed to take hours. The staircase was winding, and she had to resist the urge to slide down the banister like she did at home. There were falling pieces of flame as the stage above them incinerated, and yet somehow none of the group seemed concerned. They had to walk through canals that were waist high. Some men in the group muttered.

Finally, they came upon his lair, illuminated by hundreds of candles of all sizes.

"God in Heaven." Someone muttered.

Everyone split up into separate directions, exploring the cave. Kerri grabbed a torch from one of the brackets, intending on going back upstairs before the roof caved in and trapped them all. She passed by a pair of mirrors, both smashed and broken. Piles of glass crunched beneath her feet. But there was a third pile, to which no mirror belonged.

Slowly, she lifted the curtain that hung in front of her. There was a hallway behind it.

Looking around to make sure no one would follow her, she stepped in. It was pitch black, and Kerri could see no end.

Making sure there was safe ground in front of her, she followed the walls. There were many turns, but no splits in the path. And then she came upon a man.

"Well, not only was Bouqet a nosy pervert, he was also a liar. Your skin seems fine, and you do in fact, have a very nice nose."

The man looked up. His face was wet with tears.

"How did you find me?"

"Not all girls in frilly dresses are stupid. Although I will admit I look it."

"Leave me be." He said. She crossed her arms.

"I will not. This entire building is going to cave in on itself, and no one deserves to die like that."

"Than I am no one." He muttered. Kerri rolled her eyes.

"I don't know why men insist women are so dramatic. Your gender is the one with the immense ego."

"Do you have a death wish?" He asked.

"No. Do you?"

He said nothing.

"Very well then. Get up. We'll leave together."

After a moment, the man stood.

"Is there a way out of here?"

"One in every direction."

She clapped her hands together. "Well then, since I was facing north, but we are now facing west, we're going to want to go…" She spun around in a full circle.

"There." She pointed west.

"Walk straight, then take a left." He pointed. She smiled, walking forward. Every once in awhile, she cast a glance back to make sure he was still following. After a good half an hour, they came upon a hatch.

"I think we're here." Kerri sighed, dropping the torch and hoisting herself up on the hanging ladder to open it.

The hole opened into a small hut. There were no windows, and the roof was made of straw.

"Well, I think we're on the highway, which is good."

"You think?" The man repeated.

"Yes. Now we have to go back towards the city."

"No!" The man grabbed her arm, pulling her back close to his chest.

"Yes." Kerri insisted. "Not all of the way; I have a carriage waiting a few miles outside on the highway because I like to walk."

"And what if someone sees?"

"No one will see. By now, everyone is asleep in heir beds."

"As you should be."

Kerri smiled. "And miss my chance for adventure? Sir, it appears you have much to learn."

So they continued walking in silence, listening to the sounds of the night. The snow was soft, and the road was wet. Kerri shivered.

"Would you like me cloak, mademoiselle?" His tone was mocking.

"No, thank you. We're almost there."

Just on the horizon was a black covered carriage.

"Goodness, Madame, you startled me. I was just thinking of riding up to check on you." The driver laughed as Kerri opened the carriage door.

"Oh, you know I can't resist a bit of fun." Kerri smiled, holding it open for the man.

"And a guest?"

"Yes, a guest." Kerri nodded. "And we would like to go home now, Raphael."

"Of course, Madame."

The ride was just as silent as the walk. Kerri said nothing, finding more amusement in imagining what she could say. She noticed his hands were bleeding, and there was a cut on his forehead. He made no eye contact, but stole occasional glances.

Kerri's home loomed before them, and Raphael took the courtesy to drop them off in the front, instead of making them walk from the barn.

"As always Raphael, it has been a pleasure." Kerri sighed, shaking the mans hand.

"Good night, dear lady." He smiled and drove off.

Kerri shut the front door quietly behind them.

"Follow me." She instructed. "And keep quiet."

They crept up the grand staircase together, Kerri leading him into a secluded wing of the house.

"You can stay here for now. Sit on the bed—no, actually, don't. Sit at the vanity." She paused, locking the door behind her. "And don't break it."

Crossing the room, she knocked on a panel of wall. It slid open. Servants passages.

"Bring me my medical kit please. Also, could you go into my father's room and find some clothes he won't miss?"

"Yes ma'am." The girl nodded, who wasn't much older than her. Kerri put a chair in front of the man, leaning against it to remover her shoes.

"Never envy a woman." She commented. He still wouldn't look at her.

The maid came back, placing everything on the bed quietly and leaving. Kerri retrieved the box, opening it and placing it on the desk.

"Let me see your hands." She said, reaching for one. He flinched. Slowly, she brought it into her lap, palm up.

"Do you mind if I ask you how you did this?" She said, wiping the dried blood away. He didn't answer.

"You know, I can get really annoying, if you'll let me. So if you won't do me the honor of a full-bodied conversation, monosyllables will suffice."

"The mirror." He replied.

"May I also ask why you broke the mirrors?"

He looked at her. "Is that a joke?"

He was looking her in the yes, she realized. His gaze was hard, judgmental.

"No, it's not."

He seemed surprised.

"I couldn't stand to look at myself."

Kerri had now moved on to the other hand.

"Than why did you have them in the first place?"

He did not answer.

"Why are you doing this?" He asked suddenly.

"Pardon?"

"I want your answer. I gave you mine."

She thought about it for a moment, or pretended to.

"I am what you would call the black sheep of my family. Or society, in general." She took out gauze pads and wrapped his hands.

"Look at me." She ordered. When he did not, she took his chin and turned his face. She tended to his forehead, and then looked down, wanting to itch her leg. She noticed a bright red stain seeping through the shirt at his waist.

"Take the shirt off." She sighed.

"Excuse me?"

"Off."

"Why?"

"Well, as it were, you're all wet. But you are bleeding."

She took out more gauze, plus a bottle of iodine and a needle and thread, placing the supplies in her lap. She scooted the chair closer to him, moving his arm to see the injury.

"It's deep, but not life threatening. What happened?"

"The Vicomte." He sneered. Kerri laughed.

"Raoul did this to you?"

"Yes." He paused. "You said his name. Do you know him?"

"He's my brother." Kerri informed. The man straightened, flinching at the iodine.

"He must be improving." She commented, getting on her knees to sew it together.

"So, Vicomtess, why am I here?"

Kerri chuckled, shaking her head.

"I have no title. My mother is Vicomtess. I am Kerri." She offered her hand.

"And you are?"

He did not answer, nor take her hand.

"I just saved your life, you bastard. At the very least, I deserve a name and a handshake."

"Only to hand me over to your brother!"

Kerri stood.

"Hardly. My brother is a sissy, and a terrible fighter. You'd kill him in any fight."

The man seemed shocked that Kerri had said that.

"Well, there are clothes for you on the bed. I'm sure Delia will draw a bath for you if you want."

"And am I your prisoner now? Locked away in a deserted part of the house?"

Kerri snorted at the accusation.

"My room is next door, as if you needed to know. And you are no ones prisoner."

Karri opened the door quietly.

"Erik." He said suddenly. "My name is Erik."

"_Bonne nuit_, Erik." She whispered.


	2. Chapter 2

Kerri was on air. The legendary Opera Ghost was in the very next room. This man had sparked fear into so many, and yet…that's all he was; a man. Heartbroken, vulnerable, but a man none the less. She laughed trying to picture her brother Raoul's face if he ever found out.

"Ma'am…if I may…"

"Come in, Marie. Have a seat. I was just about to start painting." Kerri sat at an easel, pulling the sheet off that served as a dustcover.

"Milady, that man…" her voice trailed off.

"Finished your sentences, Marie. Unfortunately, I am not a telepath."

"That man in there….he scares most of the girls."

Kerri stopped mid brush stroke.

"And does he scare you?"

"May I speak freely, ma'am?"

"Always."

"Yes."

Kerri rose from her stool, and sat with her maid on the bed. Kerri took Maries hands into hers.

"Marie, I have known you since we were children. You are my confident, my sister, and my only friend. I trust your judgment. Do you trust me?"

"Of course!"

"Then do not fear him."

Marie wanted to say something, Kerri knew. But she did not. Kerri rose, pulling her hair back into a loose ponytail and tying it with a ribbon.

"Would you mind putting on the phonograph? Something dark, if it's not too much trouble."

Marie nodded, finding the appropriate record at setting it up to play.

Erik was pacing. What was he doing here? This girl had rescued him, so what? He didn't owe her anything. And yet, there was something about her, something he couldn't pin down. And the way she looked at him…she looked at him like he was a real person. But still, she was so young….and so beautiful. She was not at all like her brother. She had long, jet black hair and intense green eyes. She could say one thousand words with just one look from those eyes. She had done so already countless times.

Erik smiled, remembering their conversation. She was not as he'd come to view a normal girl. Typical girls were so subservient and naïve and gullible. She had butted heads with him two times, and taken obvious sarcasm in stride. Furthermore, she was amazingly trusting of either him, or her ability to protect herself, because without even knowing his name, she locked herself in a room with him. A bedroom, no less.

And she had actually called the Vicomte a sissy.

"Sir, would you like me to draw you a bath?" The girl from earlier stood in a corner, obviously afraid of him, but not enough to keep her head down.

"No, thank you."

She turned around, anxious to leave.

"How old is Kerri?" He asked. She stopped, slowly turning around.

"Seventeen, sir."

"She seems older." He mused.

"Most men say that, at first." The girl smiled.

"And then they say she is incredibly childish for her inability to keep her mouth shut."

"Indeed."

"Is that all, sir?"

"Could you bring me paper? And some ink, and a pen?"

"Yes, sir."

Through the thin walls, Erik could hear a phonograph playing. He didn't recognize the composer, but the music was oddly inspiring. He needed to write.


	3. Chapter 3

A loud knock on her door awoke her. Kerri had no idea what time it was, but she knew it was early.

Putting on her robe, she cracked her bedroom door open.

"Kerri! Oh, I'm sorry, did I wake you?" Christine was holding some big white thing, and looking very chipper.

"Oh, no. How may I help you?"

"Umm, Raoul said you might want this dress. I was going to burn it, because…" She looked at the floor. "Well, do you like it?"

She stepped back, showing Kerri the dress. It was obviously a wedding dress. Simple, yet elegant.

"Sure, I'll have it."

"Good." Christine practically threw it into her arms.

"Will we be seeing you for lunch?"

"Probably not. I really want to finish my painting." Kerri lied.

"Alright. Dinner then."

"Of course." She could think of a million better things to do, but she decided that since this girl was going to be her sister, she might as well have dinner with her.

As soon as Kerri closed the door, her dog, a Doberman named Adonis, growled.

"Yes, I don't like her either. But the dress is pretty, hmm?"

Kerri laid the dress out on her bed, and then thought of the idea to visit her new house guest.

Knocking before unlocking the door, she found him sleeping. The drapes were drawn closed over the doors that lead out onto a balcony. Kerri used it many times before to get out undetected. The fire place still glowed red with embers. Smiling, she walked directly towards the drapes, pulling them open. Erik rolled over because the light it him directly in the face.

"Oh come now. If I have to be up with less than ten hours of sleep, so do you."

"I can see why men find you annoying." He mumbled, pulling the blankets over his head. Kerri laughed.

"Men find me loud and boisterous. Other than that, they say I'm quite charming."

"Charming?" He rolled over, sitting up suddenly.

"What is charming about waking me up at the most indecent hour…" He stopped mid sentence.

"Why aren't you dressed?"

She rolled her eyes.

"Why aren't you?"

"Because I _was_ sleeping." He retorted.

"As was I, until your lady love woke me up to give me a dress she didn't want. It's a very pretty dress, I will admit."

"What are you talking about?" He seemed very agitated.

"Christine Daae. I saw the mannequin, and you cannot tell me the two did not bear amazing resemblance in the face."

"What is Christine doing here?"

"Her only home just burnt to the ground, in case you've forgotten. Where else would she go?"

Wheels started turning in Erik's head. If she was here, then perhaps there was a chance to win her back… Keri saw him thinking, and began thinking too.

"Now, Raoul lives in the West Wing of the house. Although I doubt they're sharing a bedroom, she will most likely be in one of his guest rooms" Kerri walked over to the desk, brushing the finished sheets of music with her fingers.

"Oh, and while I'm thinking of it, the servants passages lead all over the house. They don't connect to any mirrors, but quite a few of them open into ventilation shafts...but that's just a thought." Kerri smiled, sighing.

"If you need me, I'll be in my room all day, painting. Except for dinner. I think we're having people over, so I have to be there." Satisfied that she'd dropped enough hints, Kerri left.

"What were you doing in there?" Delia, Maries mother hissed. She was standing outside of Kerri's door.

"Nothing." She replied non-chalantly.

"Nothing? In your underwear?"

"He didn't see that I was only wearing underwear." She snorted.

"Well, I'll have you know he wasn't wearing _anything_."

Kerri blushed. Good thing she hadn't followed her original plan to yank off the covers.

"Yes, that's right. You should be embarrassed. Flouncing about in your underwear with a man you barely know."

"I was not 'flouncing about', thank you. And besides, I can only do that because I don't know him."

She paused.

"And anyway, he's in love with someone else."

"Who?" Delia crossed her arms.

Kerri coughed loudly.

"Umm, he might have a tiny flame for Christine…"

Delia gasped, pulling Kerri into her room.

"And you brought him here, of all places? What is wrong with you?"

"It's not like she'll ever know. I don't plan on parading around the foyer with a banner, so if you keep your mouth shut…she'll never know."

Delia sighed, closing her eyes. "I have no idea where I went wrong…"

Kerri smiled, hugging the older women.

"I'm a product of years of oppression and lack of oxygen due to corsets."

The woman laughed.

"So, what is your latest work? I see you've finished Paris."

Kerri looked at her easel, where the finished canvas of the Eiffel Tower waited to be hung.

"Actually, I am yet to be inspired."

"Well, perhaps you'll find inspiration at dinner tonight."

Kerri groaned.

"Kerri, you need to be social! This woman is going to be your sister. You will be seeing a lot more of her, so you might as well get to know her."

"But what if I don't _want_ to be social? What if I am perfectly happy _not_ knowing her?"

"Then you will be very miserable tonight, because you are going; I'm making you."

Kerri made a face.

"Don't give me that, young lady. Just because I work for your family, that does not mean that I can't hit you every once in awhile."

Kerri hid a smile, thumbing through her wardrobe, looking for something to wear later in the day.

"What about this, lady?" Delia held up a rather frumpy dress.

"I'll look like a nun."

"Well, maybe your new friend will take a hint."

Kerri thought to herself 'What if I don't _want_ him to take the hint?"

She knew it could never happen, of course. One reason being he was absolutely obsessed with his brother's fiancée. Two, he found her incredibly annoying. And although she wasn't madly in love with the man, it still hurt. And the third reason was probably the most trivial, yet somehow it stuck out most in her mind; she was seventeen. At the very least, he was gracing forty. She valued life experience in men, but really, that was just ridiculous.

Erik got out of bed as soon as she left and closed the drapes. He was going back to sleep, to hell with being up this early. He curled up under the blankets, and then put a pillow over his head when Kerri and an anonymous voice were having a loud conversation out in the hallway. The voices were gone, but the thoughts were still there.

She had been standing in the light for most of their conversation, and although he hadn't intentionally noticed, you could pretty much see through the robe.

He groaned, rolling over onto hi stomach. He was getting excited over nothing. She was seventeen, for Christ's sake! Barely out of childhood. And anyways, how could anything so beautiful ever want him? He knew now that he was destined to be alone isolated from the world forever.

He had to leave this place before she drove him insane. Would she let him go? Most likely. Did he want to? Yes, and no. As much as she was annoying, something about this Kerri fascinated him. And of course, Christine was here….

So he would stay, Erik decided. Besides, now, the police were probably searching high and low for him, so traveling was dangerous, even if he only moved at night.

Pangs of hunger stabbed his gut. How long had it been since he'd eaten? Three days? Four? Sometimes he lost track of the days when he was composing, and forgot about eating all together. What was on the menu for breakfast, he wondered?


	4. Chapter 4

"Tell me why am I going to this dinner again?" Kerri gasped as Marie tightened her corset.

"Because you love your brother, even if his choice in women is less than perfect."

Kerri looked at herself in the mirror, playing with her hair.

"Should we go up or down?"

"Who is at the dinner party, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Umm, some military officer, a few of my mother's friends, the Duke…"

The girls looked at each other.

"Down." They said in unison.

The Duke was a sixty year old bachelor, hell bent on "taming" Kerri. He was perverted, not to mention he smelled like Scotch, which Kerri hated.

She slunk into the hallway, skirt in one hand, and shoes in the other. She knocked on Erik's door, opening it slowly.

"I'm going to dinner now. Do you want me to bring you something? The entrée is Filet Mignon."

"No, I'm not very hungry." He said, waving her off. He was sitting at the vanity now, writing.

"Are you sure?"

Erik looked up, intending on telling her off.

"You look nice." Is what came out. She smiled.

"Thank you."

"Kerri, your mother is asking for you." Marie poked her head in the door.

"Oh, okay. I'll see you after coffee then, alright?"

Erik nodded, watching her leave.

Kerri felt the headache coming on, even before she entered the sitting room. There would be lots of interrogation about her personal life, at least four catcalls from the Duke, and her father would end up drunk.

How could any sane person want this?

Everyone turned as she opened the door. Raoul smiled.

"Kerri, you look absolutely radiant." He rose from his seat and hugged her.

"Yes, that color looks wonderful on you dear." Kerri's mother's friend Margaret added. The dress was a shade of midnight blue, with sky blue starbursts embroidered in the skirt.

"Thank you." She smiled, the gesture not reaching her eyes. She greeted everyone in turn, a kiss on the cheek and a hug. The Duke held on for a second longer than proper.

"We were just speaking with Christine about that fantastic ordeal last night. I'm sure it was absolutely horrid, thinking you were on stage with Piangi, when you were really in the arms of the Opera Ghost!"

Christine nodded, squeezing Raoul's hand.

"Oh absolutely. I was terrified."

She was lying, Kerri knew it. Maybe there was more to Christine than everyone realized.

"I can only imagine." Beth, Margaret's niece commented. "Thank God Raoul found you when he did."

"Yes, thank God."

As much as her blatant lying angered Kerri, it also intrigued her. What feelings was Christine, and why? Did Raoul even know? She made a mental note to ask her one day.

"Oh, Raoul dear, didn't you say you had an announcement?" Kerri's mother sipped her wine, patting his knee gently.

"Oh, yes. Of course. Umm, we do in fact have an announcement." He and Christine stood.

"After much discussion, and in light of recent events, we have decided that we've waited long enough. We've moved our wedding date to five weeks from tomorrow."

There were exclamations of varying volume.

"Oh, that's wonderful! Congratulations to you both."

"Dinner will be served momentarily." The butler announced. Everyone migrated into the dining room, sitting where the name cards told them to. Kerri was across from the Duke. Wonderful.

The food was well-prepared, the wine was rich and plentiful, and the conversation was good, mostly. Kerri felt like every other comment was pertaining to her non betrothed status. And was that a foot climbing up her leg? Yes, it was! She kicked across the table, causing the man to grunt. Not a bulls eye, but he stopped.

Placing her napkin on the table, she slid her chair back.

"Mother, I'm not feeling very well. May I take dinner in my room?"

"Of course dear! What ever is the matter?"

"Oh, you know how my stomach is. Nothing too serious." She smiled, kissing her brother, mother, and father lightly.

"Feel better." Christine whispered. Kerri smiled, and left the room quietly. As she climbed the stairs, she heard the dining room doors shut again.

"No, no, no!" She whispered to herself. She had to keep walking. Hopefully, it wasn't the Duke.

But Kerri's prayers went unanswered.

"Kerri! I know you can hear me."

She stopped suddenly, turning.

"And here I was thinking you were my dog. Oh wait; it appears I am not mistaken."

The man smiled.

"You know, you are such a pretty girl. It would be a shame if you were…injured."

"By someone like you, monsieur? You give yourself far too much credit."

The Duke chuckled, circling her.

"Dear child, I'm afraid it is you who is mistaken. You may be skilled in many things, but you have a severe lacking in physical presence. So many things could happen in this dark corridor, with no one around to hear you scream? An accident would be tragic."

The Duke held her chin, turning it upwards.

"My dear Duke, it appears you are wrong again. What I lack in physical presence, I make up for in aim. She stamped her heel down on his boot.

"And if any accident were to happen, I'm sure my brother would hear of it." She ground her heel into the soft cloth, and he groaned.

"And Raoul is _very_ protective of me."

"We will speak again, dear lady. Soon." He spoke through gritted teeth, but did not forget to bow. Kerri stalked away, slamming the bedroom door shut.

"Forget something?" Erik asked, turning in his chair.

"Oh, if he wasn't the Duke, I'd…spit on him." Kerri shivered from repressed anger.

"A suitor, then."

"If you can even call him that. To call on someone, generally, there is mutual attraction."

"Not always."

"Even in arranged bloody marriages, the people can stand being in the same room with each other!"

"I find your anger extremely amusing."

"Oh, I'm sure Raoul felt the same way about your attraction to Christine." She snapped. Erik's smile faded.

"By the way, they marry in five weeks."

"Where did you hear that?"

"They just announced it before dinner. If you were planning on making a move, now would be a wonderful time to do so."

"I don't believe I'll be taking orders from anyone, let alone a child."

"I am not a child!"

"Oh? Tell me, Kerri, have you ever loved someone so deeply that you needed them with you to be truly happy, to feel whole? And when they were not present, you felt ill? Have you ever loved someone so much you could taste it?"

"Yes, I have."

"Someone who is not family?"

"Yes." Kerri sighed.

"It appears then, that we have more in common than I thought."

"So it seems." Kerri sighed, falling dramatically onto the bed.

"What happened? Where is he now?"

Kerri sat up.

"Oh, so we would like to share our life story now? Because that is what mine amounts to."

"Very well." Erik replied slowly.

"You tell first."

"Ladies always go first."

Kerri smirked. "Alright. His name was Christian. I was fifteen. We'd virtually grown up together. He was Marie's older brother." She paused.

"It was the middle of summer. We were in the fields, just there." She pointed out the window.

"There's a house that the herders use in the spring, when the animals are birthing. We stopped because we wanted to eat lunch. We fell asleep…It was innocent; nothing happened. Raoul didn't see it that way. He had him killed." She sighed. "It was silly, if you think about it. I was born noble, and he was only a stable boy. It was doomed from the beginning, I suppose."

She smiled, wiping tears from her eyes.

"Your turn."

"I was born…like this. My mother, fearing me, sold me to a band of gypsies. When I was young, two or three years old. The man locked me in a cage, starved me, beat me, put me on display in their circus. When I was eleven, I murdered that man; strangled him. Madame Giry was there, and she took me, hid me in the Opera House sewers."

"So she saved you."

"That is one way of looking at it, I suppose."

"What is another way?"

"She merely stopped my suffering, for a time."

"And what of me? What have I done?"

"I haven't decided yet."

Kerri found this passiveness on the subject frightening. Was this what drove him to murder innocent men? Vengeance?

"I'll be back in a moment." Kerri said suddenly, getting up and leaving in the room in a hurry. She returned, bearing pencils, a sketch pad, and a small book.

"I have something for you. Well, of sorts."

"What do you mean?"

She sat back down on the bed.

"It's a poem. Two poems, really."

"Oh, lovely."

"Would you stop? There really quite nice. At least I think so." She flipped through the pages of the book, stopping suddenly.

"Here we are. Are you listening?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"Not really." She laughed.

_Here is a list of fearful things:  
The jaws of sharks, a vultures wings,  
The rabid bite of the dogs of war,  
The voice of one who went before.  
But most of all the mirrors gaze,  
Which counts us out our numbered days._

And what exactly about…."

"Shh! No interrupting!" Kerri cut him off.

_The Day is words and rage.  
The Day is order, earth, and gold.  
It is the philosophers in their cities;  
It is the map-makers in their wastelands.  
It is roads and milestones,  
It is panic, laughter, and sobriety;  
White, and all enumerated things.  
It is flesh, it is revenge; it is visibility_.

"I really don't understand…"

"I said no interrupting!" She glared at him. "Now, this is the part that reminds me of you."

_The Night is blue and black.  
The Night is silence, poetry, and love.  
It is the dancers in their grove of bones,  
It is all transforming things.  
It is fate; it is freedom.  
It is masks and silver and ambiguity,  
It is blood; it is forgiveness;  
It is the invisible music of instinct._

She sighed.

"What do you think?"

"I think there is a reason I'm not a poet."

Kerri rolled her eyes.

"I think that you most of all should appreciate the message in these poems."

"And what are the messages?"

"Well, the one I just read to you is pretty self-explanatory. It's about Day and Night, and the difference between them. The feelings they evoke, the people they attract."

"And what about the first poem?"

Kerri smiled.

"It's about fear. Humans, by nature, fear what they do not understand, and cannot change. What is more horrific than time passing?"

"I believe the answer to that is in this very room."

Kerri shook her head.

"You are no more frightening than a lion in a zoo. In the wild, a formidable opponent, but behind bars, it is no more threatening that a kitten."

"I thought you said I wasn't a prisoner."

"The bars don't necessarily represent an objective prison, Erik. They could be anything. Doubt, fear, society's expectations…"

"How do you survive?" He asked suddenly.

"What?"

"You have such…passion for life. Most girls your age are afraid of their own shadow, and furthermore of men. Any normal girl would have headed for the hills upon seeing me. But you seem fascinated by everything, and you have a thirst for knowledge. How do you survive in this society, where women are expected to look pretty and speak only of dinner parties and frocks?"

Kerri laughed.

"Why do you think I'm not married?"

She paused.

"But I really should be asking you the same question. That opera was…amazing. I can only imagine what ecstasy lies beneath the surface of the composer."

"It is not ecstasy that lies in my soul, only torment."

"Why is it that tortured artists are the most beautiful? Is it the blind passion shining through, or just some inexplicable chromosome they possess?" She pulled a leather portfolio out from her sketch book.

"It's a pity that they never finished it."

Erik rose, taking the composition book into his hands.

"Where did you get this?" He asked, flipping through the pages.

"I stole it from Raoul. He came home one day waving it around, going on about how it was insane that Andre and Firmin even suggest that Christine play lead in this 'Phantoms Opera.'" She put air quotations around the phrase.

"I figured he wouldn't miss it. I've had it with me for awhile. I was going to learn to play it, but I suppose it should be with the author."

"No, you appreciate it far more than I ever could."

"Did you always plan on kidnapping Christine?" She looked up at him, taking the book back.

"Why do you ask?"

"Because it seems such a waste to have written this as a mask for her abduction. Why not just take her from the dormitories, while she slept?"

"Because I wanted her to want to be with me."

"Even though you knew her heart belonged to Raoul?" Kerri fell quiet. In a way, she understood.

"I suppose you knew from the start it could never work. But, like all mortals, that never stopped you from dreaming."

Kerri opened the sketchbook, tearing out a drawing and placing it face down on the bed.

"That's for you. I think I'm going to go for a walk. It's a beautiful night; fresh snow. I'll see you in the morning."

Kerri left quietly, locking the door behind her, as always. Erik waited until she had gone to look at the drawing. Turning over the paper, he bit his lip.

It was of himself. Somehow, she'd managed to portray him as perfect, no scars, no mask, just…whole.

He closed his eyes. She was making this so hard. He would leave with or without Christine. But it was Kerri's acceptance of this unspoken truth that made him want to stay. She was so young, and full of life, and open to everything, good and bad. It gave her an almost seasoned naïveté, and made her seem both knowable and a mystery. He had never felt this way about anyone before, and it scared him. He had thought Christine could handle knowing him, seeing his very soul. And he had been wrong. He was beginning to feel this way about Kerri. Could he handle being defeated by his own heart again?


	5. Chapter 5

Two weeks passed, and soon the house was filled with wedding planners and florists and dress makers. It made Kerri ill, only because the happiness was a false one. Christine was complaining of nightmares and strange voices constantly. And although Erik had not admitted to it, Kerri knew that they were his doing.

On a particularly warm afternoon, in between late snows, Kerri seized the opportunity to interrogate Christine. She was supposed to be napping, but instead Kerri found her pouring over a letter. She was singing quietly to herself.

"In sleep he sang to me, in dreams he came…."

"Christine? Is this a good time?"

She jumped, turning around.

"Oh, yes, of course Kerri. Come in. Was there something you wanted?"

"Just to go for a walk in the garden. It's a gorgeous afternoon. The rose bushes are in bloom."

"Oh, of course. Just give me one moment to find my cloak…" She rummaged through a trunk, pulling out a cape she'd received earlier in the week from Kerri's father.

"Alright, let's go."

She did her best to put on a happy face, as she had been doing daily.

"So what is on your mind? You don't strike me as the sort of girl for idle conversation."

Kerri laughed. "No, I am certainly not. I was curious actually, about you. I know you have been saying that the predicament at the Opera House is very fuzzy in your mind, but I can't help but feel you're lying."

Christine stopped.

"What do you mean?"

"You know what I'm talking about. I'm a very good liar, Christine and I can spot dishonesty from a mile away."

Christine spotted a bench in the distance.

"Sit with me." She pleaded.

"Kerri, you have to swear to me not to tell any one. Not even Raoul. _No one_ can know."

"Of course."

Christine sighed, falling silent for a moment.

"He wasn't just a phantom, Kerri. He was my guide, my protector, my teacher. He taught me how to sing, how to love…and how to hate."

"I don't understand…"

"I know I shouldn't, but I can't help myself. After all, I owe him everything. He provided me with so much, and I betrayed him."

"Christine, you aren't making any sense." Kerri thought to herself _'has this girl really cracked?'_

"He proposed to me, Kerri. The Phantom of the Paris Opera House proposed to _me_. He risked his life for me, to make me happy. And I left him to die… But what else could I have done? Stayed with him? That would have killed Raoul. And I do love him, but…"

Kerri shook her head.

"Are you happy Christine?"

"Yes, of course I am! I'm going to be married, live a life of privilege. But I fear that may not come without a price."

"What do you mean?"

"I keep hearing a voice, his voice. The Opera Ghost is singing to me from beyond the grave. At first I thought it was dreaming, but now…" She started to cry.

"I don't know what to do! I can't get married like this, I will not. But I know as long as I live, he'll follow me. I desperately want him to forgive me, Kerri. But I fear that the ghost is as vengeful as the man."

"Christine, are you listening to me?"

The woman nodded.

"Let it go. Let him go. Dwelling on the past does not change it. Learn to live your life. Eventually the ghost will learn the same thing. By ceasing to live, you're letting him win."

Christine sighed.

"You're right. You are right. Where does this wisdom come from?" Christine rose, kissing Kerri on the forehead.

"Who ever chooses to chase you will not be disappointed. Never give up on your dreams."

Kerri smiled.

"That is easier said than done, I fear."

"If you truly want it, anything is possible."

"You have to stop." Kerri sighed, shutting Erik's door.

"Stop what?"

"You know exactly what I'm talking about."

"No, I'm afraid I do not."

"God damn it! Could you please stop being so childish? Christine told me everything! For weeks she's been hearing a voice, your voice Erik! And I'll admit it was funny at first, but now, if you will not stop for Christine's sanity or Raoul's happiness, stop for me. Because as much as I loathe Christine, I love my brother. And it would kill him if she cracked. So if you could please just stop…"

"Why don't you read to me?" Erik proposed.

"Why?"

"Because you like reading, and I like watching you."

Kerri smiled.

"Another girl would find that disturbing. I'll be back in a minute."

She returned a moment later, carrying a seemingly old book.

"This was my grandfathers favorite book. He was as crazy as I am, most would say."

"You're not crazy." Erik assured her. Kerri smiled.

"Sit with me. I hate these enormous beds; they make me feel like a toddler again.

Slowly, Erik sat next to Kerri, leaning back against the wall of pillows. She was right; it was a little ridiculous.

_Take my hand and lead the way;  
tell me all you want to say.  
Whisper softly in my ear,  
all those things I want to hear.  
Kiss my lips and touch my skin;  
bring out passions deep within.  
Pull me close and hold me near;  
take away my pain and fear.  
In the darkness of the night,  
be my beacon, shine your light.  
In the brightness of the sun,  
show me that you are the one.  
Give me wings so I can fly;  
for I can soar when you're nearby.  
Enter my heart, break down the wall,  
it's time for me to watch it fall.  
I've been a prisoner, can't you see?  
Break my chains and set me free.  
Strip me of my armor tight;  
you'll find I won't put up a fight.  
Release my soul held deep within . . .  
I'm ready now, let love begin._

Erik wasn't sure if he had been listening to the entire poem or not. He found himself unable to tear his gaze from her face. When she read, her eyes lit up, and she wore a small smile, as if the words were playing a game of imagery in her head.

"What?" She giggled, looking at him.

His lips met hers before either of them knew what was going on. At first, Kerri was unsure of herself. It had been a long time since she'd kissed a man, let alone one she was attracted to. She had always heard kissing was some primal instinct, that you knew how to kiss from your first breath, but until then, she hadn't believed it.

The kiss was over almost as soon as it began. Immediately, Erik was up, apologizing. Kerri watched him for a minute, still recovering from the shock of it. Had it been a dream?

"Erik, Erik, look at me." She stopped him from pacing, but he would not look at her.

"Erik, look at me, please." She pleaded, lacing her fingers into his.

"Looking at my feet doesn't count." She laughed softly, bending to meet his eyes.

"Don't apologize."

"But…"

"But' nothing. In case you weren't paying attention, I kissed you back."

He looked into her eyes then, expecting to see pity. Instead, he found amusement, contentment, even euphoria. She wrapped her arms around his waist, resting her head on his shoulder. They were a perfect fit; Kerri's head rested just beneath his chin. She sighed, never wanting to let go of the feelings she had.

Lucky for her, neither did Erik.


	6. Chapter 6

The next three days seemed like an eternity. Kerri found herself spending more and more time with Erik, and less time with her family. Although she often went through phases like this, Raoul and Christine were always bothering her. She obliged them with dinners, and occasionally sitting in on Christine's gown fittings.

"You seem anxious, Kerri. Any reason why?" Christine stared at Kerri through her reflection in the mirror.

"No, not really. I guess the atmosphere is rubbing off on me. I want you to be happy."

Christine smiled.

"I am. I've been sleeping better, thanks to our little talk."

"Do you think you will sing again? Once the opera house is rebuilt?"

"Oh, I don't know… as much as I love it, I don't think it's in my future. Besides, that would be the last place Raoul would want to send me."

Kerri laughed.

"That is true."

"Kerri, I want to ask you something."

She stepped off her platform, motioning for the seamstress to leave. She knelt in front of where Kerri sat, the dress billowing out around her.

"You helped me so much last week, and I am eternally grateful. You are wise beyond your years. It would mean the world to me, and Raoul, if you would be my maid of honor."

Kerri had truly not expected the request. And it's not like she could say no…"

"Of course I will, Christine."

He face lit up.

"Wonderful! Raoul will be so happy to hear about this."

She immediately started taking off her dress, intending on telling him right away.

"We're having a rehearsal banquet next Saturday. You're not required to come, but I would love it if you could."

"Alright. I'll be sure to remember."

"Why must I love my brother?" I asked, flopping down into a chair in the corner of Erik's bedroom.

"I take it your day has not gone well."

"Not in the least. I'm Christine's maid of honor! Did I _want_ to say yes? No!"

"But you did."

"And now I have to go to all of the rehearsals, and I have to be fitted for a dress, and now I am required to be at that stupid gala, and be social, and be flirty."

She sighed.

"I wish you could come with me."

"But I cannot."

"Maybe I'll just fake sick…no one would miss me."

"Your brother would miss you."

"You hate Raoul."

"If he noticed you were not in attendance, he would come looking for you."

"So we won't stay here."

"You must go, Kerri. Unfortunately, you have duties to fulfill."

Kerri rose, crossing the room, sitting on the vanity, leaning back against the mirror. She had chosen not to wear the mass amounts of petticoats her dress allotted for, so even though her feet were off the ground, the hem dragged.

"What are you writing?"

"And aria."

"I can see that. What is it about?"

"I don't know yet."

"You have to have some idea."

"Right now, I'm just writing whatever comes to me."

Kerri pulled him up, kissing him softly.

"I have to write." He groaned, placing his hands on her waist.

"So write. I am not stopping you." She giggled as he pulled her towards the mattress. She landed on top of him, and then rolled off.

_I live through my dark existence  
only to bask in your beauty  
your eyes that shine like sapphires  
your smile that brightens even my sad existence  
I envy the wind that runs through your hair  
that touches your lips  
I long to touch you  
to hold you in my arms but I cannot  
for your heart belongs to another  
so, I can only love you from afar  
your friendship means more to me  
than anything this world provides  
but like an angel you touched my heart  
in a way that I've never felt before  
cause I've never known what love is until this day  
I know that we are only friends  
but my heart wishes it to be more  
so I will still hope and dream  
that one day I can feel your lips pressed to mine  
to hold you in my arms and say, "I love you"_

Kerri recited the poem from memory; it was by far her favorite.

"You captivate me with your words." Erik sighed.

"Then we have something in common."

Kerri closed her eyes, listening to the crickets chirp outside the window.

"Let's go riding." She proposed, sitting up.

"What?"

"Oh come on! It's a gorgeous night. There is a full moon, so we can see clearly."

"You do this often, don't you?" He asked, watching her tear the sheets from the bed and tie them together.

"I used to."

"What if someone sees us?"

"No one will see us. This is _my_ side of the house." She tied one end to the bed post, trailing the other end out over the balcony railing.

"You expect me to climb down _that_?"

"Don't be such a girl! I do it all of the time."

"I'm also one hundred pounds heavier than you are."

"How do you know what I weigh?" She crossed her arms, raising her eyebrows. He did not answer.

"Exactly as I thought. Now, could you please untie me?" She turned around. He assumed she meant the stays in her dress. He did so, and she began slipping it off. He blushed, turning around quickly.

"You didn't have to turn around for that, you know." She stepped in front of him, wearing a pair of calfskin riding breeches and a loose shirt.

"And even if you did, you're facing a mirror."

She smiled.

"Come on. I'm assuming you know how to ride?"

"Of course."

"Good." She slid down the sheet, landing softly on her feet.

"Oh, bugger!" She exclaimed.

"What?"

"I forgot my riding boots." She looked down at her feet, and she was still wearing her ankle boots. She sighed.

"Oh well; I have an old pair in the barn."

Erik climbed down the sheet, landing next to her.

"The barn's this way." She pointed towards a cluster of trees.

As they neared, Erik could just make out a building. There were lights, but he did not detect any people.

"Everyone's asleep or at dinner." Kerri assured him, sliding the door open. A few horses nickered, but most of them were too busy eating. A cat circled their feet.

"Ok, so I'm riding Michael Angelo, so you can ride…." She searched the racks of bridles.

"Alexander." She smiled, handing him the leather.

"He's just there." She pointed to a grey Lipizzaner chowing down of feed.

"Lovely. I'm riding a pig." Erik mused.

"Now why can't I ride him?" He pleaded, seeing Kerri's horse; a black Fresian.

"Because I raised him, and he's a mean old cuss." She smiled, finding amusement in his sullen attitude.

Once mounted, their conversation continued.

"You don't ride side saddle?" Erik observed.

"Black sheep, remember?" Kerri chided. "Now, there's a tree, just over the hill. It's exactly a quarter of a mile. Last one to it walks home."

"Are you proposing a race?"

"Indeed I am."

"And what is the prize for winning?"

"Assuming you win, you can have whatever you want. But if I win…." She pretended to think.

"You have to sing."

"What?"

"I know you can; you were beautiful at the Opera House."

"Those were extreme circumstances."

"Should I make these extreme circumstances?"

"No." He sighed. "What would you have me sing?"

"Whatever you want." Kerri grinned.

"Ready….Go!"

Both horses took off, mud and half-melted snow flying out from beneath their hooves. There was no distinct leader…each pair had their moments.

As they rounded the hill, a hare darted across their paths, from one side of the forest to the other. Michael Angelo reared, and sent Kerri falling backwards. She hit the ground with a thud, conveniently in a spot where there was no snow.

Turning around, Erik almost jumped off his horse before it stopped moving.

"Are you alright?"

"Yep, I'm okay." She moaned.

"Why did I have to land in the only no-snow spot around?"

"You're sure you are okay? Nothing's broken?"

"No; although I'm pretty sure I landed on a rock…" She reached under her lower back and produced the stone.

"Yep, here it is. I'll have a bruise."

Erik was kneeling next to her, somewhat leaning over her. Her chest was heaving, her hair was a mess, and she could very possibly have just died. God, she's beautiful, Erik thought.

"I'm all wet." She pouted. He brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes, kissing her forehead.

"Let's call it a draw." He murmured. She shook her head.

"No. You were ahead, so you win."

"You want me to win?"

"I want you to get what you deserve. You were ahead, so you win."

"Then as my prize, we're saying it's a draw."

He pulled her to her feet. She swayed, but did not fall.

"You're too much of a gentleman for me. In fact, for what you've been through, you are an amazingly civil person."

"Alright, then as an amazingly civil person, I'm going to tell you that you should probably be quiet now, because you've hit your head, and you'll start saying things you'll regret."

"See? Again, you're the gentleman. I have no idea what Christine saw in Raoul to leave you."

"You've known me for three weeks. You should not say such things."

"Oh shh." She waved him off as he picked her up.

"Will they follow us?" Erik motioned to the horses.

"Yes." She paused, and then continued her speech.

"Time has no meaning, Erik. Two people can know each other for twenty years and not have the connection a couple of twenty days has. I know you, whether you like it or not."

"You think you do."

"No, I do. I'm sure of it. I read over that opera after I found you; you were meant to be Don Juan. You created the part in your image. Who could blame you?"

"This would be a good time to be quiet, Kerri."

"I'll shut up when I'm dead." She protested. "You know, there is an English proverb that I think applies to you." She murmured, shielding her eyes from the barn light in his shoulder.

"And what does it say?" He slowly untacked both horses single handed, leaving the stuff outside the appropriate stalls.

"A good man in an evil society seems the greatest villain of all."

"How do we get back into the house?" He slid the door shut behind them, and began walking towards the house.

"Knock on that window." She pointed. Delia answered. She didn't ask questions.

"No changing the subject. That's quite rude." Kerri continued on, oblivious to the fact that she was in fact very loud.

"It's better than using physical force to keep you quiet."

"You couldn't hurt me if you wanted to." She snorted.

"Oh? And why is that?"

"You're afraid that I'll still like you."

"And why on earth would that frighten me?"

"Because then you would have to admit that you're worth loving."

Erik was astounded at her accuracy, as much as he didn't want to admit it. The thought of her leaving scared him, but the thought of her staying absolutely terrified him.

Delia led him through most of the servant's corridors, right into her bedroom. He had never actually been into her room, but he didn't waste time marveling. She had fallen asleep at some point during the trip.

He placed her under the covers, and she immediately balled up under the comforter, hugging her pillow. She reminded him of a little girl.

Erik left as silently as he had come, retiring into his head for the night.

Kerri awoke suddenly with a splitting headache. She found a glass of water and some aspirin next to her head on the table, and she gratefully took it. It was still dark out; what time was it? Her grandfather's time piece said midnight.

The headache made her tired, but her bed seemed uncomfortable. It was too hot under the blanket, but without it, the room was freezing!

Since it was only midnight, Kerri came up with the idea to visit Erik. Those visits always seemed to wear her out.

So of course he was sleeping. There were candles still lit, so one by one, she blew them out. She watched Erik sleep, wondering what he dreamt about. His chest rose and fell evenly, and as she made her way around the room, she caught glimpses of white scars running every which way across his shoulders and back. She'd seen them before, on black slaves being unloaded at the docks from Africa. She had been young then, so she didn't really understand. But she had never seen them up close.

They made her sad, a kind of sadness that made her chest hurt.

She blew out the last candle and looked at him again. Could she spend the rest of her life with him? Yes. But it would be hard to just disappear. She was a pretty girl, and her mother was planning her eighteenth birthday party, which would double as her debutante ball. And although it was perfectly acceptable to be presented single, her mother wanted Kerri to be engaged before the ball, seven months away. But would she still try?

Damn straight.

She climbed under the covers next to him, pressing her body to his. She thought about what he had said earlier; had he only been in her life for three weeks? It felt like much longer. Not that it was a bad thing; she just connected with him on a very deep level. Did he feel the same way? She hoped so.


	7. Chapter 7

Erik felt strange. He felt…heavy. He opened his eyes, and found himself staring at Kerri.

"Oh God." He groaned. What did he do? What did she do? And the bigger question: Why couldn't he remember it?

She was pressed up against him, sleeping soundly. She was wearing a nightgown, which was reassuring. Did she know he wasn't clothed?

Before he had a chance to get up and dress, she stirred, rolling over.

"Good morning."

"Is it?"

"Yes; I haven't slept that well in years." She sighed,

"Speaking of sleeping, what are you doing here?"

"This bed has always been more comfortable. And my room was stifling. Is that alright?" She kissed his shoulders, bit his neck softly.

"Kerri, I'm not dressed."

"Is that a problem?"

"It could be for you."

"I have no problem." She murmured, running her nails down his back. He shivered.

"You're teasing me."

"And for that, I am sorry." She grinned, not sorry at all. She tried to get up, but he pulled her back, pinning her arms above her head and straddling her waist.

"Is it a problem now?"

"No." She wriggled under him. "But if you could shift your weight just a little bit, that would be great, and because I think you have a little bit more than one hundred pounds on me."

He snorted, shifting his weight back.

"Thank you."

"Okay, I just have one observation to make. Her we are, in bed. I am naked, and clearly at the advantage in this situation. And you are making jokes. So tell me why I shouldn't do exactly what I'm thinking of right now."

"Ad what _are_ you thinking of?"

He kissed her heard, forced his tongue unto her mouth. She moaned as he worked his way down her neck, releasing her hands to slide the night gown off her shoulders. Slowly, his hands slid over her chest, encompassing her waist, and down her thighs. He reached her knees, hitching the hem up into his hands and pushing it farther.

Kerri couldn't breathe. Her heart was pounding in her throat, and she had forgotten how to speak. This didn't feel right.

"Erik stop." Was all she managed to say. He did, his hands falling just short of her hips. She could breathe again, and her brain was functioning normally.

"No, you stop."

Suddenly, the weight of her situation fell on her. It was as if a switch in her mind connected, and she realized that she was in bed with a sexually deprived full grown man. To a normal boy her own age, her flattery and sweet talking was just that, flirting. But, to this man on top of her, the situation was far heavier. She saw it in his eyes, and he saw her realization in hers.

"Let me go." She said finally. He sat up, careful not to show too much skin. She left quickly and quietly, because for once in her life, she was embarrassed, and couldn't think of he right words to say, even if she found the courage to say them.

What had he done? He hadn't meant to scare her, honestly. He had just wanted her to realize that it wasn't a game, and he was not a toy.

God, what had he done? Almost done? Through out his life, he had seen and experienced many, many things. But he had never encountered the feelings he was having now, or done anything close to what just happened. What if she hadn't stopped him?

He understood now why Antoinette had hidden him from the world so long ago. Perhaps he was really a monster.


	8. Chapter 8

Kerri hadn't visited Erik for a long time. Before she knew it, her dress was ready, and it was the eve of the wedding.

Christine was a ball of energy; excited, nervous, and ready all at the same time. She absolutely adored Kerri's dress, because unbeknownst to her, it was the wedding dress revived. They had taken in the skirt, removed some of the appliqué, and voila! It coordinated with Christine wonderfully, gave everyone a sense of family unity. This was all according to the planner. Everyone went along with it, because no one had any better ideas.

Raoul and Christine were cut off from each other completely. It was Kerri's job to make sure they stayed that way. No yelling through doors or stolen glances out of the window. Notes were acceptable, however. This was by order of the parents. They were even leaving at separate times. Raoul would prepare at the church, and Christine would arrive at the church in full dress just in time for the ceremony to start. She had her own carriage, only because her dress was that big. After words, everyone would depart for the dinner and accompanying reception in the ball room of the house. Then, after many speeches had been made, and the champagne bottles were empty, they would depart for a week in the mountains.

Her mother had pounded this knowledge into Kerri's memory like the universe would go terribly wrong if it didn't work out exactly like that.

After locking both bedroom doors from the outside, and sealing off any secret passageways, Kerri returned to her own bedroom, exhausted at the mere thought of tomorrow's events. She found a bouquet of roses on her bed. No note to say who it was from, but she had a fairly good idea. They were all in full bloom, perfect in their own ways. There were 13; two red, two light pink, two white, two yellow roses with red tips, two orange, two burgundy, and one perfectly black rose in the center. She put them in an empty vase on her bedside table, and simply stared at them for a few moments.

She couldn't talk to him. Not for what he had done, but what she hadn't. For all of the knowledge she possessed, she was still only a seventeen year old girl. It had been her mistake not realizing she did not know everything, and her ignorance hurt everyone.

She fell asleep reciting one of her favorite poems. A prayer, really. Her grandmother had said this to her every night from the time she could understand the words until her death, when Kerri was twelve. Her favorite flower had been roses, too.

_Journey to the end of day,_

_Come the fire-fly,_

_Come the moon;_

_Say a prayer for God's good grace_

_And sleep with love upon your face._

The morning was beautiful; sun shining, birds twittering. There was no hint of coming storms, no signs of bad luck. Christine had randomly burst into tears twice, once when she saw Raoul's carriage drive away, and once when she couldn't find her shoes. If this is what all brides-to-be were like, Kerri would more than gladly pass on the opportunity.

"Kerri, I need to speak with you." Christine sniffed, still recovering from her hysterics.

"I'm listening." Kerri sat on her bed, watched someone reapply the smeared makeup.

"I know that we haven't exactly connected these past weeks, and I feel that it's my fault. But we do have one thing in common."

"And what is that?"

"Raoul. He loves us both, and he wants us to get along."

"Christine, I haven't had any problems with you." Kerri laughed.

"I know, but t just feels like you're never one hundred percent with me."

"I am one hundred percent with you now, Christine. And I do not want you to worry about our relationship. All you need to think about is walking down that aisle, saying 'I do', and having as much fun as possible with Raoul for the week that you are alone. Because trust me, once he's going, he's hard to catch."

Christine smiled. "Thank you, Kerri."

"You're not going to start crying again, are you?"

The woman laughed. "No, I don't think so. Not until the ceremony anyway."

"Good. Now, I am going to go and get my purse, and then I'm coming right back, because we need to get to the church soon, okay? You're not going to run off on me, right?"

"No; at this point, I don't think my legs are working properly."

"Well, we'll have a hell of a time getting down stairs." Kerri gave her a reassuring smile and left. She wanted to say goodbye to Erik. Although she really had forgotten her clutch.

"Erik, we're leaving for the ceremony now."

"Is that today?" He did not look up from his writing.

"Yes. We'll be back around three o' clock, but the reception is here, so I probably won't be available until eight or so."

"Have a wonderful time."

"Do you want me to bring you some cake? I tried some last week; it's very good."

"No, thank you."

Kerri sighed. If only she had more time…

"Well, I'll see you tonight."

"Of course."

She turned to leave, but stopped.

"Erik, one more thing."

"Yes?"

"Thank you for the roses. They're all beautiful."

She was facing the door, but she was pretty sure she felt him look.

"You're welcome Kerri."

The carriages arrived right on time. The weather was still clear, not a cloud in the sky. Six pairs of heels clicked on the stone paving, and the shuffle of one little girl's feet. Christine was fidgeting, swaying from side to said, making her dress fabric rustle. Kerri's father was going to give her away; they were meeting in the entrance hallway.

"Kerri, Oh God." She gasped suddenly as the small group waited for the go-ahead.

"What?"

"What if I trip?"

"You won't trip; you've spent years training with the best ballet corps in France, and you've got two girls carrying your train."

"What if he changes his mind?"

"He won't change his mind, Chrissie! He absolutely adores you." Meg Giry chimed in.

"Really?"

"Really."

She gasped again.

"What?" Everyone exclaimed.

"What about the honeymoon?"

Madame Giry pursed her lips, waving everyone away.

"Va t-en!" She exclaimed, noticing that Meg and another girl were hovering. They hurried off, pretending to be very interested in the church's architecture. She spoke very low, reassuring Christine that everything would be okay. She was hyper ventilating a little bit, and actually stopped breathing all together when the church doors opened.

"Okay, here we go." She breathed, closing her eyes for a moment.

The flower girl, one of Raoul's best mans daughters tottered in, carrying the basket of flower petals and looking adorable in her little dress and matching shoes and hat. Then went Madame Giry, escorted by the girl's grandfather, Jean-Claude. Meg was escorted by Raphael, the Duke's godson, and another one of Raoul's friends. Thankfully for Kerri, however, the Duke himself was not in attendance. Kerri would be escorted by Patrick, the best man, and a man whom she considered her brother.

"Hell Kerri. You look ravishing this afternoon." He smiled, linking arms with her.

"Thank you Patrick. But you really shouldn't be looking. Raoul would kill you."

"He knows I'm always on the prowl for the next ex Madame Pipard. It's not my doing if you fall for me."

Kerri smiled.

"Because a twenty-five year old bachelor with four daughters and two ex wives is _soo_ attractive."

"Exactly! See, it's happening already." He winked at her from his place behind Raoul. She ignored it. If Patrick was anything, he was a push over.

The ceremony was three and a half hours long. Kerri was getting tired of chanting in Latin, then kneeling, then standing up again, and all while holding the stupid bride's bouquet.

Crap, her leg itched. Standing on one foot in her shoes was suicide. Had she left her clutch in the carriage? Yes. Had she remembered the key to her bedrooms? She couldn't remember. And her leg itched terribly!

Finally, it was over. They said 'I do', kissed, and rode off together to the house to change for dinner. Everyone was chatting absent mindedly about the ceremony; how cute the flower girl was, what a vision Christine was, how beautiful their children would be…

"Excuse me, mademoiselle, would you do me the honor of accompanying me at tonight's dinner?" Patrick took Kerri's hand, bowing deeply. She rolled her eyes.

"On one condition, good sir."

"Name your price."

"You have to tell me who made Brigitte's shoes!" She laughed, picking the little girl up.

"She looks adorable."

"We say that now. In ten years, we'll be saying 'she's absolutely gorgeous.' And twenty years after that, 'What happened?"

Kerri smiled. He was also a comedian.

"Wouldn't it be wonderful if we could just stay children forever? Never leave home, never worry about if your coat is out of fashion or if my corset is tight enough…"

"Never leave boarding school…." He continued.

"Now, lead the way to our pumpkin carriage, Cinderella."

Together, Kerri and his four children, Anne, Marguerite, Veronique, and Brigitte created a train of poofy dresses and from far away, she was sure it looked like she had a multi colored train.

"As soon as Patrick sat down, he sighed.

"I think I'll be taking these girls home soon. Anne actually fell asleep."

"I did not!" proclaimed the seven year old.

"Yes you did. You were snoring. I heard you." He teased.

"Stop being juvenile. Snoring is not lady like, and therefore, Ann couldn't have possibly been sleeping." Kerri defended the little girl, who beamed.

"And what would you know of being lady like, Ms. Chagny?"

"Don't make me dump you on the highway." She warned.

"Would you really leave the four, defenseless girls to walk all the way to your house?" He pouted.

"Oh, never! Just you." She smiled sardonically. He pursed his lips.

"And I can be very lady like; I just chose not to be." She added.

"Well then, be lady like for Raoul tonight. He would appreciate it."

"I will be ladylike if you stay for dinner."

"Kerri, the girls really have to get to bed soon…."

"Then they can stay in one of the guest bedrooms. Please? You deserve this night as much as they do."

He sighed, rubbing his eyelids.

"The things men will do for a beautiful lady." He clapped his hands together, looking at his daughters.

"And thus, our Cinderella has found her prince."

"For tonight, anyway." She finished.

"Come dance with me, Kerri." Patrick pleaded, taking one last sip of champagne and standing.

"I couldn't."

"Yes you can. It's too boring sitting her watching everyone else." He held out his hand.

"I promise to be good." He added. She rolled her eyes.

"Just one." She warned.

"Lovely." He grinned, pulling her onto the floor for a waltz. Across the room, Raoul and Christine were dancing also. The pair managed to twirl there way towards the other, meeting them in the middle.

"Oh look, it's our dear newlyweds. Having fun, are we?"

"Yes, thank you for asking. This is all really too much." Christine smiled, looking around the room.

"Nothing is too much for you." Raoul kissed her. "And Kerri, you look absolutely wonderful."

"Thank you Raoul."

"Remember Patrick, she is my sister." Her brother warned.

"And you are my friend." Patrick added, twirling Kerri around.

"Exactly. I think this violates the code."

"What code is that?" Christine inquired.

"Nothing. It's something we made up when we were younger. Between Patrick and I. And I can't believe you remember that, Kerri."

"It was only five years ago, if you call that 'younger."

The music stopped, and everyone applauded the orchestra.

"And I am saved." Kerri said under her breath. The grandfather clock in the foyer chimed seven.

"Thank you for the dance, Patrick, but I really should be getting off to bed."

"Oh, you can't! There are still plenty of people to talk to, and drinks to have, and…oh wait. I'm talking to you. Never mind!" His grey eyes shone. Kerri smiled, kissing him on both cheeks. She hugged Raoul and Christine, wishing them well, and then departed. In truth, the wine was taking a toll on her, she was getting a headache.

Removing her shoes, she tossed them onto her bed, along with her purse. Her head was all over the place. She wanted to see Erik; she had told him she would see him. It wasn't that difficult, she had done it earlier.

Still, something was different. Maybe it was the drink. Maybe it was the fact that she really hadn't minded him touching her. Maybe it was both.

Finally, after staring at the roses for a full ten minutes, she resolved to at least talk to him.


	9. Chapter 9

Can we talk?" She asked, leaning against the door.

"About what?"

"She hesitated.

"About last week."

"What is there to say?"

"Well, I could start off with 'I'm sorry."

"You don't have to be sorry, Kerri. It wasn't your fault."

"Yes it was. I should have realized….I should have paid more attention to what I was doing."

Erik rose, crossing the room to the bed. He was looking for something in the nightstand.

"It wasn't your fault, it was mine. I am the adult; I should have stopped all of this from happening in the beginning."

He carried a new bottle of ink back to his seat.

"It is easy to forget that you're only seventeen." He continued. Kerri closed her eyes. This wasn't going exactly as she envisioned.

"Why are you avoiding me?" She finally asked.

"What?"

"You haven't looked at me during this whole conversation. You looked at your feet when you passed me just now. And I want to know why."

"I am doing nothing of the sort."

"And now you're lying to me. Erik, why can't you just look at me?"

He brought his fist down hard on the table.

"If I look at you, I'll remember what happened, what I wanted to do to you."

She jumped as he banged on the table again; she truly hadn't expected that reaction.

"Erik…" Her voice trailed off as she crossed over to him, attempting to grab his hand. He jerked his hand away, getting up and moving away from her.

"Please don't." He said. Kerri had a sharp intake of breath, and her stomach hurt. She felt like crying.

"Erik, please look at me." She pleaded her voice barely above a whisper. She took his hand, felt the weathered palm against her own. These were the hands that had killed two men, and almost murdered her brother. She should hate him. And yet somehow she felt so safe when he held her.

She reached out, touched his right cheek. It was rough, like Asher's had been.

Asher had been a friend of Raoul's for a long time. He lived somewhere in Paris, but she rarely saw him anymore. When he was a child, he had been burned very badly. The entire left side of his body was covered in scars. He used his beautiful blonde hair as a mask. One time, when she was thirteen, she had caught a glimpse of the wreckage. She asked him about it, and his answer had stayed with her over the years.

"Child, just know that the ugliest being on the earth can be the most beautiful if you look hard enough."

She had touched his cheek and told him he wasn't ugly. His smile was one of pain.

"I wish everyone were as blind as you."

When Kerri kissed Erik, it was tear-filled and heart breaking and by far the most passionate kiss she'd ever given. She stood on her tip toes, pressing her body against his for balance. Her fingers were laced into his hair, keeping him from moving too far away.

When the couple broke, the silence between them was thick enough to cut.

"Turn around." Erik's voice was hoarse. She did so slowly, feeling the air around her crackle with sexual energy and choke her.

Slowly, he unlaced the back of her dress, her corset. His heart was pounding; he was so afraid that she would tell him to stop, that she wasn't ready. So when her hand grabbed his wrist to keep him from pulling the laces free completely, he stopped breathing.

Kerri turned around, letting go of his wrist. She wanted to see his face when he saw her naked for the first time. She pulled the strings free, felt the boning spring loose. Her back was cold as she slipped out of the dress and kicked it aside.

Erik simply marveled for a minute at her body. She was perfect. Voluptuous breasts, tiny waist, smooth and toned stomach. He felt he should say something, but had no idea what sentence could compare. She blushed under his gaze, her cheeks and chest turning pink. She bit her lip, smiling.

"Well now I feel out of place."

"We'll just have to fix that." He stripped his shirt off effortlessly, pulling her close. She slowly unbuttoned his pants, letting her hands run down his thigh, over his hardened member. His eyes fell closed, and he groaned.

"Kerri…." He started, but she kissed him softly, shaking her head.

"Don't worry about it."

He had suddenly become acutely aware of his lack of sexual prowess. Although it really wasn't that much of a problem, it would eat him alive if he couldn't give her everything she wanted.

The sex was beautiful; Kerri felt herself become whole for the first time in her life. And for the first time she thought she saw the real Erik, a man who wasn't held back by his own self doubt or anyone's opinion. She thought she saw a man she could love.

In Erik's opinion, it was over far too soon, but those few minutes had given him more fulfillment than any opera ever could.

Kerri wrapped herself in Erik's arms, laying her head on his chest and listening to his hear beat. Their sweat chilled the room significantly, even though Erik could feel himself radiate heat. He pulled the blanket around them, tucking it around Kerri's shoulders.

"Thank you." She sighed. He wondered if she meant it in regards to the sex, or the blanket. Before he had a chance to ask, her breathing had evened out, and she was asleep. Sleep soon overtook him as well, sending him into a blissfully dreamless slumber.


	10. Chapter 10

Their appetites for each other were insatiable. For two days, they spent hours on end lying with each other. Not always having sex, sometimes simply talking, or watching each other in a comfortable silence.

"I wish I were a bird." Kerri said suddenly. Erik smiled.

"A bird? What kind?"

"I don't care. As long as I can fly."

"And what would you do as a bird? Peck people's eyes out?"

She giggled. "No. I would see the world."

"Where do you want to go?"

She sighed, playing with the path of hair leading from his belly button to his groin.

"I want to see Spain, and Italy, and the Americas, and England…"

"You can't go to England! The British hate the French!"

"So? I want to see it anyway."

Erik sighed.

"Maybe one day your husband will take you."

"I want you to take me."

"Kerri, don't be naïve. You know that's not possible."

"Anything is possible."

"What about money?"

"Monsieur Lefevre paid you 20,000 francs a month for 30 years, Erik. That's over seven million francs."

"How do you know what I was paid?"

"Raoul complained that they were trying to cheat him out of twenty thousand a month by saying it was a 'Phantom's salary."

Erik chuckled.

"Speaking of him, he owes me seven months of pay."

"Well, I'll be sure to let him know, right after I tell him we're lovers."

"If you want to approach it like that, you're welcome to. However, I'm not sure he'll be in the best of moods thereafter."

"You're not kidding. He'd kill you."

"I thought you said I could beat him in any fight."

"He'd have someone else kill you." She corrected. She kissed his stomach, and then got up, putting on her roe and slippers.

"Where are you going?" He sat up, watching her fix her hair.

"I need to practice playing, if you must know."

"What do you play?"

"The violin, piano, mind games." She smiled, heading for the door.

"I didn't say you could go anywhere." He objected.

"I didn't know I had to ask." She replied coolly, leaving the door ajar. He wondered if he should follow, or if she wanted him to.

Gathering the sheet around him because he really didn't feel like searching for a shirt, he went across the hall, through another door left open.

"Curiosity killed the cat, you know." Kerri sat at a piano, sifting through sheets of music.

"So did sitting on its ass all day doing nothing." He looked around, taking in all of the instruments. He felt at home.

"Not nearly as magnificent as your shrine to Polyhymnia, but at least I have a view."

"You know your mythology." He commented. She nodded, picking a piece by Chopin.

"And I must say, you know how to accessorize exceptionally well." She glanced over her shoulder.

"Don't make fun of me."

"Don't give me material."

She began playing, slowly at first, but quickly picking up tempo. Erik watched in amazement; she was playing without ever looking at the notes.

When she finished, she sighed and rotated her shoulders.

"Do you play that a lot?" He asked.

"No. This is only my second time."

"You're joking. No one plays that well on their second try."

"Well I do. My trick is that I can hear the notes as I read them, so I just spit them back out."

"Do you play the violin in the same way?"

"No. With the violin, I play whatever comes to me." She hesitated. "Do you want to play with me?"

"I haven't played in years." He shook his head.

"This stuff never leaves you Erik."

She was right. But still, it had been so long…

"That one up there is out of tune, but it plays beautifully."

He picked it up, examined it. It was old, but well-kept.

"Do you have any rosin?" He asked finally. Kerri seemed almost shocked.

"On the shelf. It's somewhere up there." She pointed above his head behind him.

"So does your brother play any instruments?" Erik sat down, greasing the bow.

"Umm, I don't think so. He took lessons for awhile when he was ten, but I think he finally gave up. He's better at cards." She paused, taking her own violin out of its case.

"I think my mother made this room for him actually, so she wouldn't have to hear him practice."

"This is his room?"

Kerri shrugged. "I sort of took it over. I like it because it's sound proof, the walls are four inches thick, and filled in, I believe."

"So no one knows when you're in here?"

"Nope. I prefer it that way, actually. Solitary living has always been more of my forte."

He nodded as he tuned the violin, plucked the strings and adjusted the instrument again.

"So basically, you're a prisoner."

"Not a prisoner." She shook her head.

"Can you leave on your own free will?"

She thought about it for a moment.

"No."

"Then you are a prisoner."

She opened her mouth to protest.

"Not all prisons are objective, Kerri." He added. She made a face. She hated it when her own words were used against her.

"So are we playing or aren't we?"

Kerri grinned.

"Sure." She positioned the violin, poising to play. "Try and keep up."

She played fast, lively music in a way he'd only heard from courtiers in Persia. He fell in with her tune quickly, at first only striking a few notes, but then gaining confidence, and feeling the need to show off. He played continually faster, but then nearly halted, dropping into a slow, sorrowful, almost melancholy tune. Kerri had stopped to watch in amazement, nay, adoration.

"Would you like to know something even more pitiful than that tune?" Erik sighed, placing the violin back in its case.

"I would hardly call your playing pitiful."

"I helped build that Opera House."

"And you burnt it down? Why?" Kerri immediately sat down on the couch.

"Because it needed to be done. How else was I to escape unnoticed?"

"Escape to where?"

"Like you said Kerri, I twenty thousand francs a month for thirty years. I'm a very rich man."

"That doesn't answer my question."

"Anywhere I chose. Another city, another country, another continent if I so desired. As long as Christine was with me, it didn't matter."

"So where were you going when I found you?"

"Hell, I suppose. That is where fallen angels and murderers go, correct?"

"So you really were just going to let yourself burn, like everything else in that forsaken building? That is so…obtuse."

"Who are you to judge me or my actions?"

"I'm not judging anything. That is my _opinion._"

"The way you said it…"

"'The way I said it' what, Erik? God in heaven, you are so conceited! Everything always has a second meaning with you!"

"I have to be like that, Kerri! Do you know how many times I have escaped death? I am always on my guard! And now, with a warrant out for my arrest, I have no choice but to act this way."

"You always have a choice, Erik! Every time! Whether it's as simple as choosing the red or blue shirt to wear, or as complicated as what piece you'll play for the recital, you _always_ have a choice. And I know for damn sure that if a bullet came through that window and shot me, and I lived to talk about it, I would cherish every moment from _then_ _on._ You talk of how hard your life has been, how difficult it is to face the world every day, but you've had it so easy! So you've lived through your mothers hatred and the Gypsies abuse, that means nothing. You're still standing, aren't you? And look at what you've learned along the way! You are so brilliant! You're a composer, and a wonderful architect, and a magician, and you speak so many languages! But all of that is overshadowed by your self hatred. You turn it outward, and blame it on the world for everyone's lack of compassion, when no one would care what you looked like if you didn't!"

"This coming from a woman born of superficial aristocrats! Quite the hypocrite, aren't we?"

"I'm not talking about the nobles or the royal family. They count for nothing in this country. The underlings, the people who hawk bread on corners and sell glassware for a living, those are who count. They know what it is to live. You could find one man on the street who wanted to die, but there would be one hundred men next to him who are just happy to wake up in the morning. I have tried to show compassion here, but you shove it back in my face."

Erik laughed, a harsh grating sound.

"I find it extremely amusing that you talk of living as if you know. What is your greatest accomplishment?"

"Living with you."

She got up, preparing herself to leave.

"If you want my love, Erik, learn to love yourself first."

She slammed the key cover down on the piano, flinging the door closed behind her.


	11. Chapter 11

Kerri was so _angry_. She didn't even know why. He had just pushed all of her buttons.

She was mixing her paints, venting some of her frustration on the liquids. Tonight there would be angry colors gracing her canvas.

"Kerri, are you alright?" Marie stood on the opposite side of the room.

"No, not really."

"Is there anything I can do?"

"Not unless you have policemen handy."

"I could call them if you'd like…"

"No, don't." She cut her off. She searched around her for something fervently.

"Where the hell is my pallet knife?"

"Behind you." Marie pointed.

"Thank you." She replied shortly. She cut a section off the bottom of the canvas, painting the entire remaining cloth vibrant red. She dabbed the scrap into the orange, sponging it on. She painted black hearts, some with holes, some broken, some simply bleeding.

She had forgotten to tie her hair back, and as a result, when she went to scratch her forehead, she smeared three kinds of paint on herself. She sighed, looking up at the ceiling.

"It's because I'm not a virgin, isn't it?" She asked aloud. "You're unhappy, so _I'm_ unhappy."

"Is there anything I can help you with?" Marie asked. Kerri jumped at the sound of her voice.

"A wet cloth would be nice. And something to help me sleep.

The girl nodded, standing aside on her way out to let her mother in.

"Kerri, we need to talk."

"Oh, you're not attempting to have _that_ conversation, are you?"

"I'm serious Kerri. You're playing with fire, and you will get burned."

"No. I'm smarter than that."

"Who am I talking about then?"

"Raoul, of course."

Delia sat down on the bed.

"Actually, I am referring to Erik."

"Erik is completely harmless, trust me."

"That is exactly what I mean. You forget that this man is a murderer."

"Well he hasn't harmed anything since I've brought him here."

"But that doesn't mean he won't. I understand that you're still mourning, but that is no reason…"

"You think I'm trying to replace Christian?" She asked slowly.

"Yes, in a fashion."

Kerri slammed her brush down.

"Get out Delia."

"Excuse me?"

"Get out!"

Delia sat wordless for a moment, then left. Marie seemed to take the hint, because she put the pills and washcloth on the dresser silently.

Kerri sat at her easel, sobbing. She had thought the very same thing two mornings ago, when she'd woken up in Erik's arms. She hadn't regretted anything, but she regretted why she had done it. For her own conscience, and because she was tired of sleeping alone. She had even dreamt of Christian. Her own subconscious was trying to drive her insane. Was Erik feeling the same way?

She was the most frustrating human being! All he had said was that is _sounded_ like she was being judgmental, and off she went on her little crusade. Were all women this way?

He ran his hands over the violin, picking it up again.

A more up beat tempo escaped him, but it was somehow still filled with a sad passion. It became more frantic, involving sour notes and low chords.

He stopped suddenly, as one of the servant girls entered the room. She wasn't afraid of him anymore, but she never called him by his name.

"May I help you?" He sighed.

"Do you want me to talk to her?"

"No. Let her get over what ever she needs to."

"She can be pretty stubborn."

He chuckled. "I know."

"As mature and well-spoken as she can be, she's still fragile, you know. Be careful."

"That seems to be the suggestion of the week. Is there any particular reason?"

Marie gave him a sad smile.

"Two years ago last night my brother was shot."

_Noow_ he felt like a jerk. He knew something was wrong, but he hadn't felt the need to ask. If she'd wanted to talk, she would have. At least, that's what he thought.

Feeling very asinine, he left the room, wanting to talk to her. He stopped himself just short of knocking. Marie had just reminded him that she could be extremely stubborn, and this seemed like one of those times that she would be pigheaded. And beyond that, no light escaped from under her door. She was probably already asleep.

But even beyond all that, all of the things Kerri had said, however heated and rash, were true.

Both Erik and Kerri fell asleep that night thinking about what had been said; by each other, by themselves, and by others. In the end, neither dreamed.


	12. Chapter 12

"Kerri, I'd like to talk to you about something-- rather important."

Kerri sat in her father's office. She had only been in there three times before, once after Raoul had caught her with Christian, once to find out Christian was being sentenced to death, and once to be lectured about what young ladies should and should not do in high society.

"Like what, daddy?" She was pretending to be a good little girl. She wore a purple dress with a black overlay, laced in the front and tied n the back. Her hair was down, for once, curled softly at the ends and thrown over one shoulder. She pinned it out of her face with a rose clip she'd made herself. The flower was burgundy. It dried in full bloom.

"Marriage. You're getting to be that age, and I'm not going to lie to you. There are quite a few suitors asking to call on you."

"I can only imagine." She could think of a few names off the top of her head.

"Now, I'm not saying that you have to get married right away. On the contrary, I think you should contemplate any proposal you receive thoroughly."

"Daddy, are you trying to tell me something?" She laughed nervously.

"The Duke is particularly interested in marrying you. He isn't asking for much…"

"You mean he's not asking for a handsome dowry."

Her father chuckled.

"Not exactly. He's offered to pay for the entire wedding if he can have you before your birthday."

'Have me!' She wanted to scream. 'What am I some _object_?'

But she had to keep her composure.

"You're having lunch with him on the Veranda tomorrow at noon. Wear something pretty."

"Daddy, I can't accept that invitation."

"I'm not asking you, Kerri. You will have lunch with the Duke tomorrow."

The defiant streak flared within her. Not if she had anything to do with it.

She left quietly, hurrying up to her room. It was almost dinner time, but if she hurried, she could escape unnoticed.

"Marie!" She shouted.

"What? What's the matter?" She gasped, running into the room.

"Pack my things. I'm leaving."

"What? Where? Why?"

"I don't know. Make sure I can carry it on horseback."

"Kerri, no! There's a storm coming! The last one of the season is always rough."

"I'll get by, Marie. Now do it."

"No. You'll kill yourself." She crossed her arms.

"They want me to marry the Duke, Marie!" Tears fell silently. "And that for me would be a fate worse than death." She retrieved a hooded black cloak from her closet.

"If you won't help me, then I'll do it myself. Goodbye, Marie." She put her hood up and left the room.

"Erik! Oh God, she's gone!" Marie slid into the room, waving her arms frantically.

"What are you rambling about?"

"Kerri! She's run away!"

Erik sat up from his position on the bed. "From whom?"

"The Duke."

Erik looked out his window. In the moonlight, he could just make out her figure.

"Damn." He swore under his breath, grabbing his cloak and heading out the door.

He knew his way around the house, and he knew that there was a back door in the kitchen that faced the barn. It was snowing outside, big, wet clumps, and a dark cloud in the distance threatened heavier things.

It was below freezing, and galloping bareback wasn't helping much. Where was she? There was no doubt in his mind that she was well ahead of him, but the field was fairly open and straight, with almost no hills. He should have spotted her by now, unless she had taken shelter in the trees.

Wait a minute, he said to himself. Her horse was standing a few hundred yards ahead of him, but she was not. She loved that horse, and there was no way she would just abandon it in the cold. And so Erik rode forward. She had to be nearby.

As it turned out, she was next to him. Buried under nearly three inches of snow, and unconscious. Her lips were already tinged blue. He quickly uncovered her, taking his own cloak off and wrapping her. He tied his horse's reins to Michael Angelo. Although it wasn't the most dignified thing, Erik threw her over his shoulder so he could mount. She fit perfectly in front of him, head resting in the crook of his neck. Her breath was warm.

"Alright, lets see how much of a mean old cuss you really are." He remarked, urging the horse into a canter.

Kerri felt safe, and warm. She was in her room, fireplace blazing, and a comforter wrapped around her. There was a cup of hot tea in her hands.

Now only if Erik would stop pacing.

"What possessed you to do something like that, Kerri? You could have died!"

"But I didn't." She commented, playing with her pallet knife.

"Only because I found you before you froze!"

"Erik-- I don't know what else to say other than I'm sorry."

"You could start with why you did it."

"I can't tell you." She looked away, sipping her tea.

"Why not?"

"Because it's none of your business." She snapped, and then regretted it.

"I'm sorry." She sighed. "It's just…I'm embarrassed."

"About..."

"About this, about our fight last week…" She covered her face with her hands.

"The Duke wants to marry me."

His face changed. He looked away.

"Well then, I suppose this has to end."

"No! No, Erik…" She rose from the bed, putting her teacup and knife on the nightstand.

"Erik, listen to me. I would die before I married him. Just because he wants to doesn't mean I have to. I can say no."

"No, you can't. I wouldn't let you throw your life away for me."

"It would only be throwing my life away if I said yes. We can get through this." She put his hands on her waist, and he kissed her forehead.

"Kerri, you and I both know that this was bound to end sometime…"

"No, I don't know that. And you don't either. Please Erik, don't leave me."

He kissed her lips softly as she pushed her hands up his shirt, feeling how warm he was.

Their contact deepened, and Kerri bumped into the nightstand, knocking whatever lay on it to the floor.

Before she realized what was happening, Raoul was tearing them apart, sending Erik to the floor with a hard right hook.

"Erik!" She gasped. He was on his hands and knees, spitting blood.

"Get up." Raoul growled. When he didn't, Raoul kicked him once in the stomach.

"Get up!"

"Raoul, you don't understand…" Kerri started to explain. Raoul didn't even look at her.

"Shut up, Kerri. I'll deal with you in a minute. Now God damn it, I said get up!"

He pulled Erik to his feet by his shirt collar, which gave the other man a chance to shove his elbow into Raoul's jaw. This time both Kerri and Christine, who was by the door, shrieked.

"You wish is my command, Vicomte." Erik back handed him with his fist, sending the boy spinning to the ground.

Erik straddled his waist, and proceeded to beat the crap out of him. In a fit of rage, Raoul forced him back, so that he was now on top. His hands were around Erik's throat.

"I should have killed you when I had the chance." Raoul growled.

Erik's hands were grappling for anything to push Raoul off of him. He found the pallet knife.

"Fortunately for me, you didn't." Erik responded, rolling them so that again, he was staring down at Raoul. The knife was against his throat.

"Erik!" Kerri cried. "Erik, get off of him!"

"He has to let go of me, Kerri."

"Raoul, let go of him."

"Never!"

Kerri hated the fact that her brother always had to win.

"Raoul, get off of him now, or I swear I will let him kill you in your sleep."

"Not if he's already dead!" Raoul retorted. Kerri rolled her eyes, and went to her closet. A sword hung from its belt. She unsheathed it, and returned to the fighting pair.

"Raoul, let go." She said, pressing the tip to his throat. He groaned in anger, but let him go. Erik got off of him, looking at Kerri with mixed emotions.

"Sit over there." She pointed to the bed.

"Kerri, what the hell are you doing?" Raoul asked, pulling himself up.

"It looks like I'm saving your life."

"What are you doing with him, with…"

"Erik?" Kerri offered his name up as an answer.

"With that monster!"

Erik suspected that Kerri was more shocked by the comment than he was. Or maybe it was her brother's face as he said it.

"The only monster I see in here is you."

"Kerri, have you gone insane? He's a murderer, and a kidnapper!"

"Well, he hasn't hurt or stolen anything since he's been here."

"Don't you realize what you've done? He's a criminal! You could go to jail for this!" He closed his eyes, breathing in deeply.

"I'm calling the police. If you're lucky, I can call in a hell of a lot of favors."

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." Erik mused.

"And why not? I've certainly got reason to."

"Do you really think that anyone would believe your story? Your helpless younger sister harbors a criminal for over two months unbeknownst to you?" He chuckled. "Even the chief of police isn't dumb enough to believe that."

"But it's the truth."

"A person would rather believe an unlikely lie to a likely truth. Isn't that right Christine?" Erik looked at Christine expectantly. She looked away.

"So, tell us then, what is our 'truth?"

"Christine felt guilty for leaving me. You being the doting husband you are, agreed to bring me here after finding me half dead on the highway. A harmless indulgence as far as favors go, until Kerri found me, and recognized me as Christine's kidnapper. She called the police out of fear."

Kerri almost smiled. Raoul couldn't call the police; they would surely arrest him for harboring a criminal.

"He can stay here, but I swear on my life if he touches you, I will have his head mounted on my wall."

Kerri nodded. All that meant to her was 'don't get caught.'

He started to leave, but turned around when Kerri didn't follow.

"Aren't you coming?"

She snorted. "Do you really think I'm going to leave him alone now that you know he's here?"

Raoul was half in shock, half angered. He closed he distance between himself and his sister. She crossed her arms and stared at him. He opened his mouth to say something, but then shut it. Her face told him the issue was non-negotiable.

"Where's Delia?" He finally asked, shouting her name. She appeared almost out of nowhere.

"You do not leave this room under any circumstances. Are we clear?"

"Yes sir." The woman nodded.

"I will be back in the morning."

"Alright." She smiled sweetly. Raoul left, practically dragging Christine behind him.

As soon as he left, Kerri burst out laughing. She glanced over at Erik.

"Were you really going to attempt to kill him with a pallet knife?"

He made a face. "Don't make fun of me."

"I'm not making fun of you, per se." She bit her lip, sitting down next to him and examining his black eye.

"Ow!" He winced. "Jesus, what is wrong with you? In case you weren't paying attention, your brother just spent the last ten minutes trying to kill me."

"Speaking of that, lift up your shirt for a minute."

She moved his shirt out of the way, exposing a reddish/purplish bruise that had formed. She touched it lightly, and Erik flinched, pushing her hand away.

"You don't understand the concept of a bruise, do you?"

"I think he broke your ribs."

"There's a surprise." He retorted.

"1…2…3." She poked the bruise, counting out his ribs.

"If you poke that thing again, I will be forced to subdue you using dishonorable tactics."

"Oh really?" She arched her eyebrow.

"Yes really."

"Like what?"

She stood, and they began a very quick game of Cat and Mouse. She squealed as Erik pulled her away from the door and into his arms. She laughed silently, poking his non-bruised side.

"Alright, that's it." He picked her up, assaulting her neck with kisses.

Delia cleared her throat loudly.

"If I'm not mistaken, this is what Raoul _didn't_ want to happen."

"He really knows how to suck the fun out of everything." Erik mused.

"He's smarter than he looks." Kerri laughed. She sighed as Erik set her down.

"Well, I'm going into my music room." She gathered pillows and a blanket, and opened the door.

"Kerri, I don't think…"

"Raoul specifically said that you couldn't leave this room. He never addressed Erik or myself."

"This isn't the smartest thing to do, you know."

"What can he do? Have Erik arrested?" She scoffed, shutting the door behind her. Delia watched as Erik gathered his things also and followed her. As she sat down on the stripped mattress, Delia prayed Raoul was as naïve as Kerri assumed.


	13. Chapter 13

Kerri and Erik were sprawled on the floor, tangled in crimson colored sheets.

Erik groaned. "Ok, we're going to have to move now. This floor is going to kill my back."

Kerri smiled, wrapping herself in a sheet and walking out to the balcony.

"No thoughts within her head but thoughts of joy, no dreams within her heart but dreams of love…"Kerri sang the words softly, humming to herself.

"And where, my dear, did you hear that?" Erik murmured, rising and hugging her from behind.

"A wonderful opera by the name of Don Juan Triumphant. Have you heard of it?"

"No, I can't say that I have."

"Oh. Well, it's absolutely awe-inspiring. There's a copy of it on the piano."

"Why don't you ell me how it ends?" Erik kissed her bare shoulders, reveling in her scent.

"Well, after defeating the commander Don Fernando, Don Juan invites his daughter, the beautiful lady Aminta to dinner, where he plans to seduce her."

"Because Don Juan is famous for his sexual prowess." Erik interjected.

"Of course. So anyway, on the night of said seduction, he happens to pass by a statue of the now dead commander, and mockingly invites it to dinner. Much to Aminta's and Don Juan's shock, the cursed statue shows up at the appointed time. He tricks Don Juan into grabbing his hand, and begins dragging him down to Hell. However, Aminta begs for his life, claiming she loves him. Of course, Don Juan is taken aback by her declaration, but admits that he loves her as well. Seeing that their love for one another is pure, the statue of Don Fernando agrees to let him live."

"That's not how my story ends." Erik pointed out.

"Well, that's how my story ends." She sighed. "And I prefer mine over yours."

"Of course you do."

"Although, _The Point of No Return_ is still my favorite song."

Erik twirled a small box in his hand behind his back. He had retrieved it from his coat pocket when she wasn't looking, and had been contemplating on whether or not to give it to her. Their comfortable silence was reassuring.

"Kerri, I wanted to ask you something. Your ordeal with the Duke put me off, but after that situation with your brother…"

"Just ask, Erik. Neither of us are getting any younger." She turned around to face him, wrapping her arms around his neck and looking straight into his eyes.

"Marry me." He showed her the box, and the ring inside of it. Kerri gasped.

"Oh my God! Erik…Erik, this is gorgeous!"

"Well, I'm glad you like it." She hadn't said yes yet, which made him slightly nervous. He was sure he would die if another woman rejected him.

The ring was silver, with a marquise cut diamond in the center. It was surrounded by smaller diamonds, giving it the appearance of a flower. There were even tiny diamonds encrusted into the band. Two carats, at least. In other words, more money than she was worth.

"Oh Erik, I can't wear this." She shook her head. "It's too much money."

"Money means nothing to me." He assured her.

"I really don't know what to say." Kerri felt a little light headed. She had never felt so happy in her life.

"Please just say yes."

She bit her lip, slowly putting the ring on. It fit perfectly, and it looked exquisite on her.

"Erik, this really is too much."

"Never for you."

She held his face in her hands, and he suddenly had this overwhelming feeling that she was going to say no. His stomach dropped.

"Of course I will marry you, Erik."

She stood on her tip toes to kiss him, but he picked her up, spinning her around. She wrapped her legs around him tightly.

_Never knew I could feel like this_…

Erik sang softly when they broke.

_Like I've never seen the sky before.  
I want to vanish inside your kiss,  
every day I'm love you more and more._

"Erik, Raoul will hear." Kerri chided.

_Listen to my heart, can you hear it sing?  
It's telling me to give you everything!  
Seasons may change, winter to spring,  
but I love you, until the end of time._

He raised his voice, so that it resonated in the room, and out to the garden below.

_Come what may!  
Come what may!  
I will love you until my dying day!_

Kerri was shocked at his serious disregard for the fact that her brother wanted to chop him up into little pieces, or what would happen if he found them.

However, if he was willing to break the rules, she would too.

_Suddenly the world seems such a perfect place,  
suddenly it moves with such a perfect grace._

She smiled. The words were coming to her naturally, and it felt wonderful.

_Suddenly my life doesn't seem such a waste,  
it all revolves around you.  
And there's no mountain too high,  
so river too wide,  
sing out this song I'll be there by your side!  
Storm clouds may gather,  
and stars may collide…_

They sang beautifully together, harmonizing with each others voices. Erik thought he could die; Kerri didn't want to.

"But I love you…" Erik murmured.

"…I love you…" She whispered back.

…_Until the end of time._

_Come what may! _

_Come what may!_

_I will love you until my dying day!_

Raoul watched in horror from the garden as his younger sister fell prey to this Phantom.

They were wrapped in sheets; they'd made love.

His stomach turned at the thought. How had this happened? The snow storm had stopped, thankfully, and he had gone out for a walk to clear his head. What he'd found was far from it. It seemed that this man was keen on tearing his family apart.

He had actually been prepared for an attempt to steal Christine, but finding Kerri in his arms was almost too much. He would find a way to rid the world of this beast, he swore that to himself as he returned to his room, where Christine was waiting.

She sat on the bed, leaning against the head board. She was absentmindedly chewing on her thumbnail, staring blankly at the wall, silent tears staining her face. She had slowly come to the realizations that the voices she had heard were real, and that Kerri had deceived her. Raoul kissed her forehead.

"I promise I will take you away from here as soon as our house is ready." He whispered.

"I know you will, Raoul." She faked a smile.

"I just…I just can't believe this. How could this possibly have happened? Our troubles are supposed to be over. Instead, they're just beginning."

"My God who is this man, who hunts to kill? I can't escape from him, I never will. And in this labyrinth, where night is blind, the Phantom of the Opera is here…." She whispered, slowly closing her eyes.

After a minute, she grabbed Raoul's hand.

"Maybe we should leave them be."

"Pardon?" Raoul's mind didn't seem to accept what she was saying.

"If we pursue him, we're only giving him what he wants."

"Christine, he's in my house, seducing my baby sister even! I daresay he's close to achieving his goal without our help."

"The Phantom of the Opera is a ghost, Raoul. Ghosts can't exist if you don't believe."

"Christine, he's not just a ghost anymore. He's very real."

"He has always been real, Raoul! But he's relied on his Phantom, his alter ego, to keep everyone afraid."

"So then we'll just turn him into a man."


	14. Chapter 14

There was a soft knock on Kerri's door. She awoke slowly, and it took her a minute to realize that Raoul was kneeling next to her head. That would have been perfectly acceptable, except for the fact that she was naked, lying next to Erik. He seemed unfazed.

"We need to talk."

This was either very bad, or very very bad. But for the moment, she would play it off.

"Give me a minute." She sat up slowly as he left, looking for signs of explosives, and/or sharp objects that Raoul could 'accidentally' push him in to.

Satisfied, she put on her robe, and went outside.

"Why are you waking me up at…" She grabbed his pocket watch and checked the time. "8 A.M?"

"You shouldn't be sleeping anyway." Raoul should have been screaming at her, or stringing Erik up by his toes. But civil conversation? This was worse than Kerri thought.

"I'm sorry about last night." Kerri crossed her arms, scuffing the carpet with her toe. "But really, I thought you were going to kill him."

"Oh, I was." Raoul nodded. "But that's not why I wanted to talk to you. Well, it is, but…"He took a deep breath. "If his staying her makes you happy, then I will allow it."

Kerri's jaw dropped.

"But there are conditions Kerri, and none of them are negotiable."

She nodded obediently. Listen first, use her little sister puppy eyes later.

"He's not staying in your room."

"Okay."

"And I won't have you staying up until all hours of the night with him, either. Eleven o' clock is the latest."

"Midnight."

Raoul gave her a look.

"Raoul, you know how I am."

"Eleven _thirty_. And you're not allowed to be alone with him. Ever."

"Don't be ridiculous."

"Are you married?"

Kerri blushed. "No."

"Then you're not allowed to be alone with him. I don't care if he can kill me in my sleep."

"The Duke gets to be alone with me." Kerri pointed out.

"No he doesn't. There will be plenty of servants and maids watching."

"What are they going to do, bash his head in with a silver platter?"

"Why are you fighting me on this?"

"Because I know how to take care of myself."

"I have no doubt of that. But it's not him hurting you I'm worried about."

Kerri fidgeted under Raoul's gaze.

"What are you going to wear today?"

"Something that says 'You're not getting it."

Raoul laughed.

"You over estimate his intentions."

"And you underestimate his libido."

"I didn't know men that old _had_ libido's."

Kerri almost made a comment about Erik. She decided that was pushing her luck,

"I do have one question to ask."

"What?"

"Why him? You could've had anybody, you could have _been _anybody."

"I don't want anybody, Raoul."

She smiled, and kissed him on both cheeks.

"You're a bigger man than I give you credit for."

He smiled, and watched her return to her room.

"Marie!" She called, leaning against the door."

"What's the matter?"

"Feel my forehead. Am I hot? I feel sick."

"What? Why? What's going on?"

"Raoul. He just told me that Erik can stay. And there were no yelling or death threats."

"What are you getting all excited about now?" Erik sat up, putting on a cotton robe that matched the pants he'd slept in.

"Raoul came in her to talk to me and saw us, and he didn't chop your head off." She paused.

"How are your ribs?"

"Broken." He shrugged. The black eye was a sick yellowish/grey color, mixed with splotches of red.

"Well, since the both of you are up now, would you like some breakfast?" Marie clasped her hands together.

"No thank you." Kerri shook her head.

"You should eat something." Erik suggested.

"I'm not the one with broken bones." She retorted.

"Do you have any fruit?" Erik turned. Marie grinned.

"I'll see what I can find."

Kerri sat down in a nearby chair, propping her feet up on the ottoman.

"So what did your brother have to say?"

"He gave me _rules_."

Erik raised his eyebrows.

"I have a curfew now. Eleven thirty. And we're not allowed to sleep together anymore." She smiled.

"And we're not allowed to be alone. Ever."

"Well, he certainly covered everything."

"I didn't tell him about the ring."

"I would never have expected you to."

"But he did ask."

"Did he now? How would he know?"

"Well, he didn't ask, he kind of made a comment, but I think he meant more by it."

"You think?"

"It feels that way. Maybe I'm over analyzing it."

"Over analyzing what?" Marie asked, putting a tray of assorted fruits on a small table at the end of the bed.

"Well I didn't mean clean out the kitchen." Erik commented.

"Oh, there's more. I just thought I would give you something of everything."

"Everything indeed." He snorted. "Grape?" He offered the tray to Kerri. She took a handful of raspberries, and a plum.

"So what are you wearing to lunch, miss?"

Kerri groaned.

"It's not even ten o' clock! I don't want to think about it." She popped a few raspberries into her mouth.

"If you think about it long enough, maybe it won't happen." Erik suggested.

"I'm not that lucky."

"Or you could wear a sign." Marie suggested mockingly.

"And would it say? 'Already engaged?"

As soon as Kerri said it, she covered her mouth, and blushed.

"What did you just say?" Marie whipped around.

"Nothing." She replied meekly. "What did you hear?"

"I thought I heard you say that you were already engaged. Now, I know that you aren't, because if you were, I would be forced to tell you how crazy and stupid you were, because you know that if your mother, or father, or Raoul found out, they would send you to some far off convent right after they butchered Erik."

"It's amazing how often insanity and love take up residence in the same person at the same time." He speculated.

"And to Erik, I would ask how careless are you, because you know that it would never work out, because not only is she _only_ seventeen, but she is also nobility. You are not."

"Now, if I had proposed to Kerri, and she had said yes, and you had said all of those things, then I would be forced to point out two things. One would be that you are about five seconds older than she is, and two would be that I let one woman go, and it almost tore me apart. I won' let that happen again."

"And I would say that if my parents or brother found out, I wouldn't care what they did to me. It would be worth it."

Marie held her head in her hands.

"That's it, I'm telling my mother."

"She already knows." Erik bit into an apple.

"What?" Both girls glared at him.

"How do you think I bought it? Wished the thing into existence?"

"Delia!"

"Mother!"

A few moments later, Delia came into the room, wiping her hands on her apron.

"Well, aren't I popular?" She sighed.

"You knew!" Kerri cried. "You knew, and you didn't tell me!"

"Or me!" Marie added.

"I'm afraid I don't know what you two are shouting about." She crossed her arms.

"Oh yes you do!" Kerri held up her left hand. You knew he was going to propose and you didn't tell me!"

"I knew nothing of it. He gave me money, and told me to buy you a ring. I had no idea what it was for."

"Mother, be realistic." Marie chided.

"I'm not talking to either of you." Kerri declared, flopping down on the bed dramatically.

"Do I at least get forgiveness points for picking out a pretty one?"

"No." She replied flatly. Delia rolled her eyes, and looked at her daughter.

"What about you? Are you speaking to me, or should I plan on conversing with Raphael for today?"

"Yes I'm speaking to you." Marie replied adversely.

"Good. Come along then. We have lots of work to do; Margaret and Gwen are home with a cold." She stopped on her way out the door.

"And I would suggest wearing the black dress, Kerri."

She made a noise of disregard.

"I think she's planning to." Erik chimed, shaking his head at her stubbornness.

A moment later, Delia popped her head back in.

"And yes, I know about the rules. I'm trusting that she'll be stubborn until noon."

Kerri made another high pitched noise as she left.

When he was sure Delia wasn't coming back, Erik rose and stood over Kerri backwards, so that she was upside down.

"Until my dying day?"

Kerri stared at him for a moment, determined not to be seduced by his eyes.

"Until the end of time." She replied finally. He kissed her. She licked her lips.

"Mmm. Cherries. I approve."

"So, what dress is Delia talking about?" He sighed. She sat up, pointing to her closet.

"The only black dress I own."

He pulled something out and showed it to her.

"That's the one."

Erik examined it more closely, and made a face.

"It's…"

"Frumpy." She finished. She nodded.

"Maybe if I dress like I'm his age, he'll lose interest."

"Or maybe he'll think it's intriguing."

She moaned.

"Don't tell me that! I still have some hope that he dies suddenly and mysteriously."

She moved to her armoire, taking out underwear, petticoats, and her corset.

"You really need all of that?" Erik asked, following her to the screen.

"No; I don't need half of this stuff. But it's fashion." She paused. "The whole purpose of a screen is to keep people from watching you dress."

"But I've already seen you naked."

"Touché. But if that is so, then why do married women use them?" She slipped out of her robe, shimmying into the undergarments.

"And I'm not even going to attempt to put this on." She snorted, eying the corset, and tossing it onto the bed. She sat on top of her desk, crossing her ankles and swinging her legs.

"You know, technically, we're breaking the rules." Erik put his hand up against the wall behind her.

"Rules are made to be broken."

"Well, when you put it that way…"

Christine was so afraid, but she needed to talk to him. She needed to figure herself out, and this situation. Of course, there was no way Raoul would put the two of them in a room together. So she left a note saying she was visiting Meg.

She snuck through the servants passages, going in the general direction of Kerri's bedroom. There was a doorknob on a panel. She slid it to one side, letting a sliver of light through.

When she saw it, she gasped, and looked away.

Kerri was sitting on her desk, face buried in Erik's shoulder, one leg draped over his shoulder. Her nails were digging into his lower back as he, well…you know."

She felt like some dirty old man, but she was also incredibly curious. She'd never seen anyone else have sex. Of course at the opera house, the older ballerinas couldn't shut up about it, but hearing about it and seeing it were two very different things.

In the end, Christine's curiosity won, because she found herself holding her breath, not blinking, and watching.

"Oh God…" Kerri whispered as the breath caught in her throat and her hips arched to meet his. She felt herself approach the climax and her nails break skin. Erik groaned, and with one final thrust, spilled his seed in side of her while riding one of the richest orgasms either of them had ever experienced.

"You're bleeding." Kerri gasped, showing him her stained fingertips.

"I'll live." He nodded, unsure of whether he could walk without his knees giving out.

After a minute, he went to the wash stand, retrieving a basin full of steaming water and a wash cloth. He soaked it in the tub, and it took Kerri a minute to realize what he was doing.

"Erik, you don't have to do that."

"Kerri, I know this might seem stupid, but the last thing I need is for you to get pregnant."

"Erik, really, don't worry about it." She touched his hand as it rested against her thigh.

"Kerri…"

"Would you let me finish?"

He remained silent.

"Thank you." She paused. "When I was ten, I fell off Michael Angelo…"

"You do that often."

She smiled.

"I hit a fallen branch on the way down. The doctors said it would be next to impossible for me to get pregnant." She touched his face.

"Don't look so depressed. I doubt either of us would make top-notch parents anyway."

"What makes you say that?"

Kerri hopped off the desk, straightening out her skirt.

"Look at us! I'm still a child, and you're, well…."

"Say it Kerri."

"Not." She finished. He chuckled.

"You put it so delicately."

"Part of my training."

"Training?"

"To be a lady." She grinned. "I failed on purpose."

He kissed her forehead, lacing their fingers together.

"So much for being stubborn." She kissed his chest.

"It's hard to stay angry with someone you love."

"I was never angry with you. I wasn't even really angry at Delia. Hopefully, you will never have to see me angry, especially not with you."

"Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned."

Kerri smiled. "Exactly."

She looked at the dress laid out on her bed and sighed.

"I don't want to go to lunch. I want to stay here with you, cooped up all day in this room, with music, and poetry, and painting…"

Erik hugged her.

"That sounds better than Heaven itself at the moment, but I'm afraid what we want and what we are required to do aren't always the same thing."

"Try never." She snorted.

"Well, if you're the kind of woman who loves socializing, festive galas for any and all occasions, girls who gossip…"

Kerri pretended to gag. Erik laughed.

"Then this is the perfect life for you."

"Promise me something Erik."

"Anything."

"If I ever turn into my mother, you'll kill me."

"I couldn't do that."

"Trust me, if I turn into my mother, you'll want to murder me."

He sighed. "We'll see."


	15. Chapter 15

Kerri looked at herself in the mirror. Her whole demeanor had changed. She was sitting up straight, and she looked serious.

"Well, I think you would make a beautiful nun." Erik commented, fastening a diamond necklace around her neck and kissing her cheek. She smiled, squeezing his hand. It amazed her how much the situation was depressing her; after all, it was only lunch. Technically, she didn't even have to talk to him. But still, it was two hours…

She took her ring off, placing it in a jewelry box to which you needed a key to open it. That hung around her neck also.

The afternoon was hot, almost stifling for it only being the middle of March. She sat facing the house, the lesser view by far. She didn't stand to greet him when the Duke arrived, and offered only basic answers to his questions, monosyllables when possible.

"They key to your heart?" He questioned, pointing to the necklace.

"My jewelry box." She sneered, taking a bite of her crab. She wasn't at all hungry, and she was fairly sure the food would come back and bite her later. Or maybe it was just the Dukes company.

"I have been thinking, Kerri. I think that we've started off on the wrong foot. If we're going to have a successful relationship…"

Kerri snorted, brushing her bangs out of her eyes.

"We should at least be civil with each other."

"Monsieur, my civility is reserved for gentlemen."

She watched as he turned a lovely shade red, and wondered if it was from anger or embarrassment.

"You will _not_ speak to me in such a manner." He replied gruffly, reaching out for her hand.

"And you sir, will not touch me." She drew her hand back.

"I am allowed to touch my fiancée."

"I am not your fiancée Duke, and I have no intentions of rectifying that."

"Any other girl would be falling at my feet right now."

"So go marry one of them."

"I don't want to marry just anyone, Kerri. You have a fire in you, and I want to know what it feels like."

"She gripped the armrests of her chair, fighting the extreme temptation to take her mallet and crush his testicles.

"I doubt my brother would be thrilled to hear you speaking to me in such a manner."

"Isn't that one of the characteristics you value in a man? Frankness?"

"There is frankness, and then perversion."

"Would you know the difference?"

"I'm sure my brother would."

He sighed.

"You should hide behind Raoul too often, Kerri. One day, he won't be there to protect you from your attraction to me."

"The only attraction I'm feeling right now is to the thought of this mallet crushing any manhood you may have."

The Duke shot daggers at a nearby waiter when he coughed loudly to disguise laughter.

"I can give you everything. Security, stability, money…"

"Have you ever thought that maybe I don't want those things?"

"And what do you want? Adventure? Excitement? Frivolity? I will assure you that I can arise to any occasion."

Kerri sat in silence, looking at the balcony to her music room. In all of their yelling, she hadn't heard the violin. She smiled.

_What sweet seduction lies before us?_

The lyrics played out in her mind. The duke turned in his chair to see what she was looking at.

"Your bedroom?"

She scowled, trying hard not to look up again. Erik was staring at them from between the drape folds.

"You're not that fortunate."

He chuckled suddenly, hearing the tune being played by their violinist. It was different from Erik's; slow, optimistic, romantic. He thought she had smiled at it.

"Oh, I see. You want_ love_." You want to be swept off your feet into some whirlwind romance."

He paused.

"Unfortunately, _mon attrait_, life is not a fairy tale. Love is a luxury none of us can afford."

"Well then, I suppose you are not as rich as you thought."

Kerri stood, and began to leave.

"You will marry me, Kerri de Chagny."

She stopped.

"Duke, I wouldn't marry you if I were dying and you were the cure."

"Kerri, you cannot speak to him like that!"

Her father cried.

"Did he even provide the contents of the whole conversation?"

"It doesn't matter! He is one of the richest men we know, and I will not have you be the reason this family falls from his good graces! He has power Kerri, don't you understand that?"

"So then his power gives him the right to talk to me like whore? Perhaps you should send me to Monmatre then; at least I'll make some money."

Her father actually had to sit down at that point.

"Kerri, don't say such things."

"Why not? It's the truth, isn't it? Money equals power, and the more powerful a man is, the lower I become on your list of importance."

"I only want the best for you."

"Do you? I am sorry, but when you punish your daughter for defending her honor, that says something else."

"You were never in any danger."

"It doesn't matter if the danger is clear or not. I know how I feel, and he just screams all the wrong words."

"Kerri, it is okay to be nervous."

"I wasn't nervous! When, in all of my life, have I ever been afraid to do something? If anything, my bravery is a flaw."

"Men can sometimes be intimidating…"

Kerri slammed her fist down on his desk.

"If men were intimidating, you would have a harder time finding me a husband."

"I thought it already was difficult. You chase them all away."

"Well if they weren't such pigs, maybe I wouldn't!"

"And what would you like me to do? Pick up some street urchin?"

"At least then I know he'd be well mannered."

"And that would be all he was. Kerri, unfortunately, life deals you a set of cards, and those are what you play with. There is no tossing in or going it alone. If you don't like the cards you're dealt, you have to pair up and hope for the best."

"Well, maybe if you could find me a suitable partner, I would play the game."

"I've found you plenty of partners Kerri!"

"Forgive me for having standards."

"Is that what you want, then? To be husbandless, childless for the rest of your life?"

"Daddy, I'm already childless, and it's not of my own doing or anyone else's. That was the card I was dealt."

The old man sighed.

"What do you want me to do? Hold auditions? Send out flyers?"

"No; I'm sure mother is doing that already."

"This is no time for sarcasm."

"I wasn't being sarcastic."

After a few moments of silence passed. Kerri waited for a response.

"You can go, Kerri. We're done here."


	16. Chapter 16

Later that night, as Kerri lounged on the couch, reading a novel she'd read one hundred times before, and Erik became absorbed in his own world, Raoul paid them a visit.  
The door was cracked open, shedding a bit of light into the hallway, where Delia was sitting in a chair, also reading.  
"How long have they been in there?" He asked. Delia sighed.  
"Three hours, maybe four. It's been quiet"  
"Good quiet or bad quiet"  
She smiled. "How would you define good and bad"  
"Good being she threw him out the window"  
"Then for you, it's been horribly bad"  
"Damn"  
"Shut the door for a minute?" Delia shut her book, crossing her legs and smoothing her skirt. Raoul gave her a look that asked 'are you crazy'  
"Oh, it's only for a moment; they'll be fine"  
Reluctantly, Raoul closed the door.  
"Why do you hate him"  
"Because he kidnapped my wife and had sex with my sister"  
Delia paled. "She told you that"  
"I figured it out on my own"  
"Have you ever considered that maybe the love each other? Maybe"  
"Are you kidding? He's using her"  
"I do not think so. I actually thought at first that she was using him"  
"Delia, you've gone mad"  
"No, I am perfectly sane. I have been watching them for almost nine weeks. There is something there, and it isn't lust"  
"What makes you say so"  
"They're in there, on opposite sides of the room almost. They've barely said two words to each other this whole time, and they haven't had a real fight since before your wedding. It's called a comfortable silence"  
"I know what it's called." He snapped. He was trying, he really was. But it was all too much, too soon.  
"She doesn't even know what love is." He argued.  
"Does anybody?" Delia raised her eyebrows. Raoul scoffed, turning the doorknob.  
"Knock." She warned.  
"If they're not doing anything, why do I need to"  
"It's common courtesy"  
She had a point, so he knocked, and waited three seconds.  
Just as she'd said, they were on opposite sides of the room; Kerri in the corner, lounging on the cough with her feet dangling over the arm, and Erik at the piano.  
"Kerri"  
"What Raoul?" She didn't look away from her book.  
"What are you reading"  
"The Beauty and the Beast"  
How ironic. But Raoul didn't say that.  
"Father told me what happened"  
"Have you come to yell at me too? He and mom have already had their share"  
"No. I actually wanted to do the opposite. Do you mind?" He pointed out to the hallway. She slowly rose, stepping out with her brother. Delia was gone.  
"What'd he say to you"  
"Direct quotes or what he meant"  
"If you could remember, the quotes would be nice"  
"You have a fire in you, Kerri, and I want to know what it feels like"  
"That could have one thousand meanings"  
"I know what an innuendo is, Raoul"  
"Well maybe you're taking it the wrong way"  
"Or maybe you chose not to see that a sixty year old man only sees me as meat"  
"So what's the difference between Erik and the Duke"  
She smiled, amused at his pride. "Touché"  
"You don't have an answer"  
"Erik doesn't see me as something to be used, and doesn't speak to me like I'm only worth what he'll pay"  
"You have no idea what Erik thinks of you"  
"Yes, I do. It's written all over his face every time I look at him. Kind of like when you look at Christine." Kerri paused. "Which, by the way, is the only reason I put up with her"  
"Because of the way I look at her"  
"Yes"  
"That doesn't make any sense at all"  
"It makes perfect sense. She loves Christine because you do." Delia had returned with a glass of water.  
"See? Delia knows what I mean"  
"But what are you saying?" Raoul was getting hysterical. Not only was Kerri psychotic, but her nanny of sixteen years was joining her.  
"You should be able to figure it out, my dear." Delia sat down again, and resumed reading her book.  
Slowly, Raoul's expression changed from one of confusion, to astonishment, then anger.  
"Are you saying that…do you love him?"  
"Yes"  
The room was spinning. This wasn't supposed to happen. Kerri was supposed to live out her little fantasy with this man, and then be done with him, not commit to it.  
"Raoul, look at me." She held his face in her hands.  
"I'm not asking you to be best friends with him. I'm not even asking you to like him. But please, please, please, _please _respect him. Respect me"  
"Do you realize what you're getting yourself into? He's a fugitive"  
"You say that as if I can turn what I feel off"  
"No, I'm saying because getting yourself thrown into prison with him is just as stupid"  
"Are you calling my feelings stupid"  
"No, I am calling them childish and misplaced. The decision to act on them was stupid"  
Kerri could have hit him. She actually saw herself doing it. The urge was so strong that she put her hands behind her back.  
"Raoul, just because you don't agree with her choice of lovers doesn't mean you have to be rude! Don't you ever wonder why she is so closed off"  
"Delia, not now." He spoke through gritted teeth.  
"If not now, when? Sooner or later, you're going to have to come to terms with the fact that at some point in the future, he might very well be your brother-in-law"  
"No. No, I won't let that happen. Kerri, I forbid you to marry him"  
Raoul began to walk away. Kerri exchanged a glance with her nurse.  
"You're too late, Raoul." She called. He stopped, turning slowly.  
"What? What did you just say"  
"Kerri, no." Delia touched her arm, but she shook her off. Raoul was now inches from her face.  
"You're too late. He's already proposed." She said it with a perfectly neutral face, holding up her hand.  
Raoul wanted to slap Kerri. This might have actually been the first time he'd ever seriously considered hitting her, or been so infuriated.  
"Give me that ring, Kerri"  
"No"  
"Don't make me take it from you"  
"If you take it from me Raoul, I'll be forced to show you exactly how much I have improved at swordplay"  
"You haven't been practicing"  
"Erik and I dueled last week. He gave me pointers." Raoul lunged for Kerri' hand, and Kerri grabbed the sword from his hip.  
"Kerri, put the sword down"  
"No"  
"That's not a fencing sword, Kerri. It's sharp"  
"I know what it is and what it isn't. And I also know that if I lower, it, you will go running into that room and kill Erik. So if drawing on my brother is what it takes to save my fiancé and my marriage, so be it"  
"You have to know that you won't ever see the inside of a church. Mom and Dad would find out"  
"They'd be happy I was getting married. Someone else's problem"  
"Not if they knew who your future husband was"  
"Are you kidding me? He's rich and famous. They'd be thrilled"  
"Infamous, you mean"  
"There's no such thing as bad publicity"  
"But there is bad public images"  
"Since when have I cared what people thought of me"  
"Just put the sword down, Kerri, and I swear I won't touch him, or you"  
"Back up first"  
"Stop pointing that thing at me. I know how you operate"  
"Back up and I'll give the sword to Delia"  
Raoul took tow steps back, and Kerri gave up her weapon.  
"Let me have it, Delia." Raoul held out his hand.  
She snorted. "I'm not that stupid"  
"Delia, please!" He groaned.  
"No. I will not have Erik's death on my conscience as well as Kerri's when she commits suicide"  
The anger crackled between the siblings. Kerri couldn't believe Raoul was being so close minded, and Raoul couldn't believe Kerri was being so reckless.  
"Most of your rules are pointless now, I hope you know." Kerri crossed her arms.  
"All of my rules still stand. In fact, I think I need to go and discuss some new ones with Erik"  
Kerri pushed him into a wall as he tried to get past her.  
"Nice try. Come back when you're level headed"  
"I'll never be level headed when it comes to you marrying that monster"  
"Then you won't ever get to chat with him"  
He clenched his jaw to avoid speaking.  
"And, for the record, that monster has saved my life twice and never asked for anything in return"  
"Except for your soul"  
Kerri smiled warmly. "No, I gave that to him willingy." 


	17. Chapter 17

Although telling Raoul she was engaged had been incredibly liberating, his reaction had left her fuming. She was now not only doing things to spite him, but also because she'd seen something in his face, something truly hateful. And although she'd never admit it, she secretly feared for Erik. So every moment was precious.  
It was almost midnight, and Kerri was saying goodnight to Erik in the hallway, a neutral zone between warring siblings. The rest of the house was asleep.  
"Kerri, you need to go to bed." He remarked in between their kisses.  
"I'll miss you"  
"I'm right next door"  
"It doesn't matter." She kissed him like his lips were a fine wine. Erik was equally passionate.  
"We have an audience." He whispered into her ear, kissing her neck.  
"What's he doing"  
"Watching me"  
"I think we need to go into your room"  
"Just because you haven't been burned doesn't mean you should stick your hand in the fire"  
"He already wants to kill you. What else is there"  
"Actually doing it"  
"Well, now there's no way I'm letting you sleep alone." She took his hand, pulling him into the bedroom and locking the door.  
The room was dark, the dying fire casting a low light over everything. Erik removed his shirt, and Kerri draped her robe over a chair. She'd made it a habit of wearing her nightclothes if she spent any time in the evening with Erik, because usually what was meant to be one hour turned into four or five. She'd been so tired lately, and when it came time to sleep, if she wasn't already in her night gown, she slept in whatever she was wearing. Of course, she was due for her period next week, which also explained her short temper with Raoul. Kerri laid down next to Erik, draping one leg over his waist. She propped herself up on one elbow, and began tracing scars on his chest. Along with the whip scars on his back, he also had one on his left shoulder, where he'd broken his collar bone. There was a long curve under his right pectoral, where his friend Nadir had actually reset two of his ribs to keep them from puncturing a lung. Then there was his newest scar, the one where Raoul had sliced into his side. It had healed fairly well, and with time, might actually disappear. As she moved her nails lower, Erik fidgeted, grabbing her hand.  
"Don't do that." He mumbled, placing his arm around her shoulders and pulling her closer.  
"Why not"  
"It tickles"  
He never opened his eyes. Kerri smiled, resting her head on his chest and listening to his heart beat. She felt it against her cheek, thumping hypnotic and slow. Coupled with their now unified breathing, Kerri was lulled into a pacified existence, asleep but able to sense everything around her. If she could stay like this, with Erik, forever, then she was positive no one could ever touch them.Christine knocked on the bedroom door. Kerri answered almost instantly, giggling like a little girl. The smile melted off of her face like wax.  
"Christine, umm, hello. I thought you and Raoul were leaving today"  
"We are, but Raoul wanted to take everything home first. He should be back within the hour"  
Kerri was a little confused. What did she want?  
"Is that all?" She asked slowly.  
"Oh, umm…if it's alright…could I please speak with Erik"  
"Uh, sure. Do you want to come in?" Kerri stepped aside and cautiously, as if she was afraid something would jump out at her, Christine stepped inside.  
The bedroom was in complete disarray. It had obviously not been cleaned that day, and both Kerri and Erik were covered in paint. What had they been doing?  
"Umm, Erik, Christine wants to speak with you." His face clearly expressed utter shock.  
"I'm going downstairs to find some soap. I'll be back in a minute"  
Kerri left them alone. Neither knew what to do. Erik took to rolling up his sleeves and pacing. Christine sat on the edge of the bed.  
"I didn't think you would want to speak with me"  
"Why would you think that"  
"Between almost murdering your husband, kidnapping you, stalking you, and then this whole situation with Kerri, no one in their right mind would want to talk with me"  
"Raoul told me about the 'Kerri situation.' Is it true"  
"That all depends on what you heard"  
"I heard that the two of you are engaged"  
"Then the rumors would be correct"  
Christine felt a pang of disappointment.  
"Would you really marry her just to spite me"  
Erik laughed a harsh, cynical sound.  
"Do you really believe that this is about you"  
"Isn't it"  
"Heavens, no! Is it really that absurd to think of me as loving someone other than you"  
"No, I just…never mind. I don't even know why I came here." She stood abruptly. "Congratulations, really. I'm glad you've found someone"  
She exited the room quickly, nearly knocking Kerri over.  
"What was that all about?" Kerri asked, rinsing her arms and hands with water, and then scrubbing them with soap.  
"I wish I knew." He chuckled, running his hands through his hair.  
"Well what did she say"  
"Nothing, really. She congratulated me, on us"  
"Oh? Do you think she meant it"  
"Yes, I do"  
"Do you think Raoul knows how she feels"  
"If his yelling is any reflection of his feelings, I'd say not"  
"You heard us last night"  
"I'm old, Kerri, not dead. All of my senses are still intact"  
She smiled, sprinkling water on him from her fingers.  
"You're not that old"  
"I'm old enough"  
"Kerri shrugged. "If you say so. Now come here and take off that shirt. "  
"Why"  
"You've got paint all over yourself"  
Erik unbuttoned his shirt, handing it to Kerri. She began scrubbing all of the paint spots, hoping she could get the colors off before the oil stained.  
Erik watched her with amused fascination; she was so set on cleaning the garment that her whole face was scrunched up unintentionally. She blew a strand of hair out of her face that had fallen from her ponytail. She was so gorgeous, and she worshipped him. He didn't deserve her.  
"What?" She smiled, looking up from her work.  
"Nothing"  
"Are you sure? You've got this weird look on your face"  
"No, no. I'm fine"  
She smiled, her whole face lighting up. Finished for the moment, she draped the shirt over the back of a chair. She started to clean up the rest of the room, dipping dirty brushes in water, capping tubes of paint and placing them back in the drawer where they came from.  
"Actually, there is something I want to ask you"  
"Is there something wrong"  
"No, no. But I was wondering, would you ever think of running away with me"  
"Now"  
"Of course not. But would you"  
"Of course"  
"Why? I have nothing to offer you"  
She sighed. "Erik, you may think that I am insane, but I would give up all that I have to experience what you have"  
"So you'd give up everything here, all of this luxury, if it meant being with me? Even if, for the rest of our lives, we were on the street"  
"In a second"  
Kerri had no clue what he was saying, or if he was trying to tell her something. She didn't want to ask, because she was slightly afraid of what the answer could be.  
"Are you trying to tell me something Erik? Because I'm with you until the end. You know that, right"  
"Of course I do. I've just been thinking about what your brother said, and he was right. We'd never be able to be married in a church"  
"I've never been a religious person anyway"  
"Kerri, I don't want you to have to give up anything. I want our wedding to be perfect"  
She sighed, placing his hands on top of hers.  
"As long as you're the one with me, it will be perfect"  
"Kerri…"He sighed. He was trying to get her to see that if she chose this life with him, it could be hard.  
"Don't say my name like that"  
"Like what"  
"Like your favorite dog just died"  
He chuckled, kissing her hand.  
"You never cease to amaze me"  
"I'll take that as a compliment"  
"Kerri? May I come in?" Her father was knocking on her bedroom door, sounding urgent.  
"Shit!" She whispered, pulling Erik across the room to the servant door.  
"Just a minute!" She called, shoving him inside and locking the door.  
She ran to answer her door, when she saw Erik's shirt. She grabbed it, putting it on over her dress.  
"Daddy! What are you doing down here?" She almost yanked the door open, forcing a smile.  
"Now I need a reason to have a conversation with my daughter"  
"No, of course not. Come in." She let him enter, shutting the door behind him.  
"Was someone just in here with you"  
"No, she replied hastily "Why would you think that"  
"I thought I heard voices." He paused, looking at her.  
"Where did you get that shirt"  
"Oh, I've had it for years. It was yours. I use it to paint"  
"I can see that." He gestured to the few spots she had failed to remove.  
"Your brother will be leaving shortly"  
"Well then we should probably go say our goodbyes"  
She started to leave, but her father caught her arm.  
"Hold on just a minute. I want to talk to you about something"  
She tensed up, but waited for her father to continue.  
"Since you think that you are capable of caring for yourself, your mother and I have decided to let you choose your husband"  
This week was just full of surprises.  
"Now don't get too excited, because you only have one month to do so, and we have to approve of him"  
Kerri was deliriously happy. She and Erik could finally be together!  
She hugged her father tightly, kissing him on the cheek.  
"Thank you! You have no idea how much this means"  
"You are very welcome. But you have one chance at this, and then that's it"  
"Of course, Daddy. Thank you"  
He smiled. "Come now. We must say good bye to your brother." 


	18. Chapter 18

With Raoul gone, Delia was lax with the rules. Sometimes she enforced them, but mostly she just left them alone.

Kerri was having the time of her life; she was attending all of plays and salons and art exhibits, with her father's permission, in the name of finding a husband. Sometimes Patrick went with her when he could find a baby sitter. She even snuck out with Erik, and they went for evening walks, sometimes staying out until almost down, exploring the city. Erik showed her the parts he knew, and Kerri took him on a tour of Monmatre. He was shocked that she'd ever been in such a desolate late part of town, but she argued that this was the center of all bohemian. Apparently, she had quite a few friends in this neighborhood.

"If you know all of this already then why are you so shocked that I've been here?" Kerri asked after the fourth or fifth 'I've been there' when ever she pointed out a tavern or bar.

"Because I've spent my life in the cellars of the world."

"So have I." She added, stealing his fedora off of his head. She'd bought it for him in one of the side shops, along with a black trench coat.

"Oh! Come in here for a moment, I want you to meet a friend." She pulled him into a bar, dark and smelling of warm alcohol and stale bread.

Kerri strode straight up to the bartender, who was obviously drunk.

"I thought you were getting help?" She asked him leaning on the bar.

"I have help." He pointed down. She leaned over farther, and her eyes wide. There was a very pretty boy, younger than her, attached to the mans crotch.

"He's working overtime." The man nodded, taking a swig of a bottle filled with green liquid.

"I see that." She laughed, "I want you to meet someone." She motioned for Erik to come over; he was still standing by the door.

"Jean-Luc, this is Erik. Erik, this is my good friend Jean-Luc."

The men shook hands.

"He's gorgeous! Where'd you find him?"

"The Opera House."

"Oh!" Jean Luc looked at Erik. "If you ever get tired of this board, give me a ring."

"Sorry, I already got it." She held out her hand. The man nearly dropped his bottle.

"Good God woman! What'd you do for a rock like_ that_?"

"Save my life." Erik said. The other man looked confused.

"That's it?"

Kerri laughed, taking in Erik's positively shocked expression.

"Jean-Luc is a firm believer in free love." She said.

"And truth, and beauty, and freedom!" He raised the bottle in a toast. The rest of the bar cheered.

"And in honor of your love, this found is on me." He placed three shot glasses on the counter, and poured the green liquid from his bottle into them! When they were nearly brimming, he pulled out a box of matches, lighting the liquid on fire.

"To love!" He shouted, downing the drink in one gulp.

"Never accept anything from Jean-Luc except compliments." She warned, throwing the drink on the floor when he wasn't looking. Erik eyed the last glass, then Kerri.

"What harm could one drink do?" He shrugged.

"How do you feel?" Kerri was sitting in a chair next to Erik, who was under four layers of blankets in bed with cold cloth on his forehead.

"What happened?" He attempted to sit up, but a wave of nausea kept him down.

"You and Jean Luc hit it off really well. He guesses you were an alcoholic or just stupid."

"What made him say that?" Erik was sure he was going to die. He hadn't felt this horrible in years.

"You had seven shots of absinthe. Most people go down after about three."

"I was only supposed to have the one." He moaned.

"You forgot about the golden rule…"

"Don't let it touch your tongue." He finished, extremely embarrassed. He had hoped Kerri would never have to know that about his past. For years after he realized all women would hate him, he'd indulged in alcohol and opium. Antoinette Giry and Nadir finally had to lock him in Nadirs apartment for a week, where he went cold turkey and recovered.

"Is that why you don't drink?" Erik asked.

"Yes."

"I'm sorry you had to see me like that." She smiled.

"On the contrary, you were quite entertaining."

Erik couldn't even begin to think of what he'd said and done.

"How did I get here?"

"We hailed a cab, and Delia helped me after you passed out."

She held out a glass of some odd- colored liquid.

"Drink it. If it tastes like gravy, you're going too fast."

He had no idea what she was talking about; it tasted terrible.

"Are you going anywhere today?"

"No. And neither are you."

He chuckled, but stopped after his head started pounding.

"Go back to sleep; you'll feel better when you wake up."

That was actually a very good idea. He rolled over, moving the cloth to the back of his neck and placing a pillow over his head to block out any light or sound, even though the room was dark and all he could hear was Kerri's breathing. He fell into an inconsistent sleep, shifting between peaceful dreams and fitful nightmares.

When he awoke again, Delia was sitting next to him, sewing.

"Do you feel better?"

"Yes…" He sat up, and everything came back. "…no." He moaned.

"Where's Kerri?"

"She went out to dinner. But that was an hour ago."

"I thought she said she wasn't going anywhere."

"I made her. She wanted to stay here with you."

"Why? Did you make her go, I mean."

"She has freedom, Erik. No matter how brief it may be, she's got it. She was going to tell her parents about you right away, but I told her to wait, and take advantage of the fact that her father can sometimes be a trusting idiot."

"That wasn't for you to decide." Erik got up, catching himself on the bedpost when he stumbled.

"And it wasn't or you to decide, either." Delia sighed.

"Erik, she adores you. She'll have plenty of time to be a doting wife after this is all done, and you'll have plenty of time to be with her."

Erik splashed his face with water. It wasn't that he didn't trust Kerri, because he did. He didn't trust her friends, or that fop Patrick. He was better than Raoul had been, and not nearly as nosy, but he was still a vampire of a man. Was Erik jealous? A little bit.

"Erik! You're up!" Kerri was flushed, and smiling.

"For the moment."

"Did you have a nice time?" Delia prompted.

Kerri nodded.

"Giles made a perfect lemon tart. And then we all went to Yvette's apartment to hear her new manuscript…"

Erik choked on a glass of water as Kerri removed her dress.

"What the hell is that?" He coughed.

"What's what?"

"That!" He pushed on Kerri's left shoulder blade, where a tattoo of a rose resided. It was still red around the edges.

"Ow! Don't touch it!" She winced. "It's a tattoo."

"I know very well what it is, but why do you have one?"

"Marianne had some ink…..everyone got one."

"Well if everyone went and jumped of a bridge to see if they could fly, would you do it too?"

"What are you getting upset over? It's not like I have someone else's name scrolled all over me. It's a flower."

"Kerri, do you know how dangerous these things are? It could get infected, or you could get ink poisoning!"

"You're over reacting."

"No I'm not! People die all of the time from botched tattoos!"

"People die all of the time from lesser things, Erik. Excuse me for taking a risk, having a little fun."

"There are risks, and then there is recklessness."

"Look who's talking! 'What's one drink', you ask? Six shots later, you're stumbling out of the bar and making an ass of yourself! You want to talk about recklessness? How about the fact that you were a recovering alcoholic, and you drank so much that even a distillery worker would have died of alcohol poisoning?"

"That was a mistake, Kerri. I thought I had it under control." All of this yelling was making his headache worse.

"Kerri, I don't want to fight with you. But you have to think about things_ before_ you do them."

"I _was_ thinking. I knew it would hurt like hell, and that my mother would strangle me if she ever saw it. But it was fun."

Erik did not understand that concept. Of course, he'd always been the calculating type, not doing anything without thinking it through. At least, until he'd met Kerri.

"You do realize now that your hair will have to be down all of the time, right?" Delia asked calmly. In all of their fervor, they'd forgotten she was there.

"A small price, I guess." She shrugged.

Or one of many.


	19. Chapter 19

One of many wasn't too far off. The next week, the family had dinner with the Duke. Kerri made it a point to talk about Erik.

"Kerri, that Patrick boy seems nice. And you two did go to that exhibition last Monday." Kerri's mother pointed out.

"Patrick's alright. He's a bit of a flirt."

"Well there's no harm in being personable."

"No there isn't But umm…there's actually someone I'm a bit more interested in."

"Oh? What's his name? Do we know him?"

The Duke had paled considerably. She could only imagine what he was thinking.

"Erik Delacroix. I don't think you know him, but Raoul and Christine do. Quite well, actually."

"Well, I've certainly never heard of him. Where does he live?"

"Here in Paris. He's from here, but for a good portion of his life he lived in Persia."

"Well, he certainly does sound interesting. You said he knows your brother?" The Duke attempted to make conversation.

"Yes. They met through Christine."

"Is that so? Well how does he know Christine?"

Kerri was amazed at how good she was making him sound. Now all that was left was to get past a meeting.

"He was her tutor. For her voice."

"Really? She never spoke of any Erik!" Her mother was now intrigued.

"He didn't want anyone to know. He was afraid that everyone would want lessons."

"That does make sense, but it sounds a little unsavory." Her father poured himself some more wine.

"Indeed it does. And one certainly can't support a family on a teacher's salary. What else does he do?"

The Duke was trying to shed a bad light on him. Kerri was resisting the urge to giggle and tease him like a five year old.

"He works…Well; he worked at the Opera House."

Uh-oh. Bad. In her parent's eyes, anyone who worked at the Opera House except the actors was nothing but a street rat.

"Now Kerri, I know that he may seem like a nice boy, but…"

"Daddy, I wasn't done." She said. Her father motioned for her to continue.

"He's an architect. He helped build the Opera House. He built all of the sets. He kept the whole building intact, really."

Her mother gasped. "Well, that certainly changes everything."

"Well, it certainly doesn't sound as if he was paid much."

"Twenty thousand francs a month. He was with them for almost thirty years, and had almost no expenses. Not to mention what he was paid for building it." She smiled at the Duke patronizingly. He wouldn't win this battle.

"Well that's all well and good, but what kind of man is he? What is his family like?"

"Um, that's actually something I do not know much about. I know his father was a master stonemason, and he died before Erik was born."

"Well how did you two meet? I don't remember Raoul ever taking you on his outings with him."

"We met at the Opera House, shortly before the fire."

"Hmm…that's very interesting. I'll have to ask around. See if any of the gentlemen at the club know him."

"Oh, nonsense! We should have him for dinner sometime. How about next week Andre? You're free on Tuesday, right dear?"

"Why yes, I am. That's a splendid idea, Alayna. Kerri, you should let him know that we'll be expecting him no later than six o' clock."

As the Dukes jaw dropped, Kerri tried not to appear too enthusiastic.

"But surely Andre you won't indulge this girl in her fantasy. They barely know each other!"

"Oh nonsense Reynard. How long has it been since the fire? Nine weeks? Ten? That's plenty of time. And if they've been seeing each other all of this time, it's obvious they're serious."

"Well, dinner on Tuesday is impossible." He scoffed. "I'm taking Kerri to the matinee of Romeo and Juliet, or have you forgotten?

"Lunch with the Duke and dinner with monsieur Delacroix should be eventful enough for one day, don't you think darling?" He mother smiled at Kerri, and she nodded. Her parents were actually excited about meeting Erik. This was too unreal. There ad to be a catch.

"Reynard! You should join us as well! Aren't you thinking of remodeling your house on the lake?"

There _had_ to be a catch.

"Indeed I am. It would be wonderful to get an expert opinion."

Kerri's mother clasped her hands together.

"Wonderful! Kerri, don't you think so?"

Kerri did think so.

"Erik, you're coming to dinner next Tuesday." Kerri announced it casually, but the news still caused him to almost drop a full ink bottle. He caught it

"Pardon?"

"You. Dinner. Me. My Parents. Tuesday."

"How? Why?"

"They want to meet you. My mother loves you."

"I doubt your mother loves_ me_. She loves the man you told her about."

"Which was you, mostly. I just gave her selective information."

"If you didn't tell them everything, that's considered lying."

"Well, forgive me if I haven't worked up the courage to tell them my lover is an ex-assassin, convict in multiple countries, and the Phantom of the Opera."

"Then what did you tell them?" Apparently, Erik viewed those three things as defining characteristics.

"Everything else."

"_Everything_ else?"

"Well, not everything. But most of it."

"And your mother loves me? What did you do, tell her my name and where I was from?"

Kerri laughed.

"Pretty much."

Erik groaned. "Tell me they aren't expecting some young buck."

"Hardly. I told them you worked at the theater. I think they're expecting something alon the lines of Bouqet in a suit."

"Well at least I'll impress them."

"At the very least."

Kerri sat on his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"You're going to be fine."

"I never said I was nervous."

"Neither did I."

She kissed him softly, drawing circles with her fingers on the back of his neck.

"They're not as bad as they seem."

"You say that only because they're your parents. You've grown up with them."

"I say that because they are both pushovers. As long as you look, act, and talk like you're worth something, they won't second guess you."

"That isn't as easy as it sounds."

"Sure it is! Be arrogant, articulate, charmingly witty, and kiss up to them like your life depends on it."

"Fortunately," He smirked. "it does."

Erik had to spend the rest of the week psyching himself up for the dinner. He could kill any man in cold blood, but Heaven forbid he be faced with his fiancées parents. The phrase ran through his mind over and over again like a caged animal. He could do this, just like Kerri said; be charming, well spoken, and an arrogant prat. Easier said than done.

Delia had even taken the time to make him a full suit.

"A gift, for everything you've done."

"But I haven't done anything at all." He could safely say he'd never been given a gift for anything before, let alone for no reason at all.

The jacket was made of black wool, with silver buttons. The vest inside was black silk with red embroidery.

"This is fantastic, Delia!"

She smiled, satisfied with his reaction.

"Well, as long as you're going to be there, you might as well intimidate a few people."

The suit fit perfectly. Everything fit where it was supposed to. There was even a pair of leather gloves in jackets the inside pocket.

"You're a Goddess, Delia." He kissed her forehead.

"And you're an Angel."


	20. Chapter 20

"I can't." Erik said. Kerri's face fell.

"No! Erik, you must! I already told them you'll come!"

"Kerri, you don't understand. I _can't_ do it."

"Please, Erik. Do it for me." She pleaded. "My mother is so anxious to meet you. And my father will love you, I know it."

"And what if they don't? What if they can't get past my face?"

Kerri had worried about that too. Her parents were shallow creatures, as most nobility was by nature.

"Well they never said I had to pick the best looking man I could find. In fact, all my father said was that they had to approve of him."

"That small phrase can carry many meanings."

"Well God damn it, if they love me at all, they'll at least try to get past it, because you make me incredibly happy."

"But is that enough?"

Kerri sighed, looking at herself in the mirror from across the room. She'd picked out the nicest dress she owned, and she'd taken the time to do her hair. Now the whole night was in pieces.

"Fine. If you can't come, write a note." She pulled out paper and an envelope.

"Why?"

"Well, I certainly can't tell them you're not coming and then not have a reason."

He groaned, scrawling out a quick excuse and apologizing. He stuffed it into the envelope and handed it to her. She began to leave to deliver it.

"Are you sure you don't want to try? I can send someone back to the Opera House, or I could go. To find you a mask." She stood at the door.

"No, no. Just give them the note." He looked at Kerri, and her dejected demeanor.

"Kerri, I truly am sorry."

"No, it's quite alright. With everything you've been through, I shouldn't have expected anything less."

He did not know whether that was meant as an insult, or it was just the truth. She left before he could ask.

"Daddy?" She knocked on his office door, stepping inside quietly. He looked up from his bills, glasses at the end of his nose.

"Don't you look lovely!" He smiled.

"Thank you daddy."

"Now, what can I do for you?"

"I have a note. From Erik. An envoy just brought it." She handed him the envelope. He opened it slowly, reading the note carefully.

"Alayna! Come here, dear." He called. Her mother entered the room quietly, still fastening her necklace and putting in earrings.

"Read this." He held out the note. Kerri was genuinely worried after her mother covered her mouth. What had he written?

"Did you open this Kerri?" Her father asked. Kerri shoo her head.

"The poor dears mother passed away! He was called to arrange her affairs." She sighed. "Andre dear, we should send him something when he returns."

"Of course, of course." Her father nodded, removing his eyeglasses.

"This is most unfortunate. Your mother and I were anticipating meeting him."

"I was anticipating it also."

"Well, there's no need to dwell on it. We can't change the past any more than we can predict the future. We'll have to get along without him."

Her father rose, escorting both women into the sitting room. It was almost six o' clock, and the Duke would be arriving shortly. They drank tea, attempting to keep their minds off of the 'death.'

"Well, don't we all look auspicious." The Duke mused, handing his coat, hat, and gloves to the nearest servant.

"Kerri darling, you look lovely." He smiled. "But where is your beau? I daresay he charmed his way out of this?"

"His mother died." She wanted to slap the smug look right off of his face.

"Kerri, don't say it so casually!" Her mother scolded.

"On the contrary ,I think it's beneficial for a young woman to come to terms with such a natural thing as death. It makes life so much easier to accept." Kerri rolled her eyes. What a sad delusion.

"Sir, I've dealt with more death than you could possibly imagine."

"Kerri!" Her mother blushed furiously, ushering the Duke away. It seemed childish, even to her, but if she had to suffer, so did the man who caused it.

"Kerri, could you please attempt to be sociable?" Her father pleaded in hushed tones.

"Well, if he wouldn't treat me like a little girl, I wouldn't rise to the occasion."

"Well, instead of only meeting his expectations, why don't you rise above them?" A voice whispered into her ear. She whirled around, gasping.

"Erik!"

She almost fell back into a chair when she looked at him.

He was the definition of handsome. The suit fitted him wonderfully. He was wearing black leather boots that matched his gloves, and they blended so well with his pants she couldn't tell where one stopped and the other began. She didn't know whether to cry or ravish him.

"Kerri, what was that….oh my." Her mother stopped mid sentence as she stepped back into the room with the Duke in tow.

"Umm, mom, dad,…Duke, this is Erik Delacroix."

Kerri couldn't help but stare at him. He was wearing a mask, she was sure of it. But where did it end? Someone had no doubt used quite a bit of stage makeup to blend the lines, but it was well worth it.

"I'm sorry, I don't believe we've met before." Kerri's father slowly shook the other mans hand.

"It is a pleasure, sir." Erik gave him a debonair smile. She knew how much he hated giving the title to someone who didn't deserve it, and how much he hated be cordial. She decided to save the ravishing for later.

"And you must be Kerri's mother." Erik went right on charming the room, using his voice like a drug. He kissed her hand, and Kerri could swear she was blushing.

"Oh, hello. She giggled. "Yes, I am."

"I can see beauty runs in the family."

This was amazing for Kerri to watch. Her mother was a puddle of giggles and eye bats, and her father was down right impressed with him. The Duke was just scared.

"Wonderful to meet you, monsieur Delacroix. We've heard so much about you." The Duke offered his hand. Erik took it, shaking it firmly, and giving him a hard stare.

"I hope nothing too terrible." He glanced at Kerri, as if to say _'_This _is the man they want you to marry? Pfft.'_

She smiled.

"On the contrary, Kerri has had nothing but good things to say about you."

"Erik dear, I was so sorry to hear about your dear mother. You really should be with your family." Kerri's mother sat down on the nearest couch.

"Well, no sooner had I sent the letter to you, did another arrive from my step father. He said he had everything under control, and that there was no need to worry."

He sat down next to Kerri on a couch across from her parents. Even his posture was excellent. She had the strangest feeling that he was making fun of Raoul. Her parents didn't seem to notice.

"You seem to be taking the news rather well. I know that when my mother died, I fell to pieces." The Duke commented, crossing his legs in some statement.

"Well, in truth, my mother and I were never very close. She remarried when I was very young, after my father died, and I felt that she never really loved my father in the first place."

_That_ was an understatement.

"Well then, I must applaud you on your excellent standings in life. To come from such humble beginnings to this is indeed an accomplishment."

"You flatter me Duke, honestly. I don't think I would be where I am without Signor Giovanni."

"And who is that?"

"Erik's adoptive father, I suppose." Keri laced her fingers into his.

"He was a stonemason who took me as his apprentice when I was thirteen. He was the only man I could ever truly call family."

The entire night progressed just as swimmingly. The only comment that hinted to Kerri otherwise was as they were escorted into the dining room, Erik whispered into her ear.

"Kill me now, before I do it with a steak knife."

She smiled, knowing how hard it was for him to pose as something he hated. But he was doing it anyway.

"Now, monsieur Delacroix, I don't mea to bring business into pleasure, but since you are an architect, and I am in the process of recalibrating my summer home, I was wondering if you could provide you opinion on the matter." The Duke leaned beck in his chair. Erik cast a questioning glance at Kerri, who shrugged.

"Alright, but I really can't say anything officially without seeing the site and its blueprints." Erik relaxed inside. Finally, something he was familiar with!

"Well, as it so happens, I have them in my carriage. This fellow who was barely older than Kerri tried to sell me some cock-and-bull story about how he could do this and that and remodel over there in under a year. A swindler if you ask me."

"I am many things, but I don't think I have ever been a criminal."

Kerri snorted, but when everyone looked she turned it into a sneeze. Erik smirked. Magically, the Dukes footman brought the plans in. Erik moved his plate out of the way, and was glad that the table was long. He spread the drawings out, wishing he had a graphing pencil.

"This is impressive. What do you want to do with it?" Erik had the most studious look on his face, and Kerri found it incredibly attractive

"Well, it sits on five acres, which gives me plenty of room for expansion, but unfortunately, the sap I bought it from built the house right up against the lake. All of the land is in front."

"Have you considered demolishing it completely and rebuilding?"

"Yes, but that would take entirely too long. I plan on moving there directly, after I settle up a few things in the city." He glanced at Kerri forlornly.

"Well then ,I suppose there are only two ways to go; up, or back."

"Well, you can't build over the lake. I had one man try and do that. He said the ground was too soft."

Erik scoffed.

"If that were true, the Opera House I built wouldn't exist."

"Oh, I had completely forgotten you built it. Wonderful job, I might add. Was it your first?"

"Hardly." Erik had found a pencil, finally. "Before that, I built the Hall of Echoes for Nasser al-Din Shah Qajar."

"He sounds important."

"He is." Erik hadn't looked up from his drawing. "He is the Shah of Persia and a Knight in the Order of the Garter. The only foreign ruler to bear that title." Erik left the part about designing various torture devices for him out. If they were ever alone, however, he might let the Duke n on that bit of information.

"So, how did you manage to keep the place from flooding?"

"We installed a system of flood chambers and hydraulic pumps. The lake we dug was a sort of spillway. We could probably use the same sort of technique here."

"You mean level the water out?"

"No. Pump the water into another adjacent man-made lake to give us a chance to cement the bottom and provide a stable building surface."

"But wouldn't the cement sink?"

"Not necessarily. Like I said, I would have to visit the site."

"Well, I'm afraid it's in the middle of nowhere. Terribly hard to find. Just outside of Rouen."

Erik paused, his entire body tensing up.

"Rouen you say? On the outskirts?"

"No, no. A small town. I can't recall the name."

"Boscherville?"

"Yes, that's the one! Terrible thing really, that I can't remember the town I was born in. Why, do you know the place?"

"I should. I spent thirteen years in Hell there." Erik felt like saying. But he couldn't. That would lead to questions. Questions he couldn't answer without raising suspicion.

"I was born there also." He nodded. Keri could see him gripping the table edge from where she sat, so much so that his knuckles were white. Did that mean the two men knew each other?

"Delacroix, Delacroix… I knew I knew that name! Your mother married the doctor!"

"Yes, she did."

"Well isn't it a small world?" Kerri prompted, thinking of something she could change the subject to before Erik lost his temper, or the Duke became too curious.

"Why don't we all move into the parlor for tea?" She sighed, getting up from the table and leaving for the next room without waiting for approval. Since she was what the dinner was really all about, everyone followed her.

They talked about politics, which Erik couldn't have cared less about. He was too busy fuming. He had known the instant he laid eyes on him that there was something familiar about this Duke. Finally it hit him; he had been one of the well-to-do's who'd come to see him at the freak show. He had stuck out in his mind only because he had spent the entire night chasing a girl.

The Duke hadn't changed much.

After another half hour of mindless talking ,the Duke confessed he had business to attend to early the next morning, and was heading home. Erik took that as his cue to leave also.

"Well, it was a pleasure meeting you, monsieur Delacroix. We should meet again, to discuss those blue prints more in-depth."

"I'll be in touch." Erik nodded. He thanked Kerri's parents for "a lovely evening." And really, apart from the over-the-hill Casanova, it had been.

Kerri walked out to the cul-de-sac with Erik, and they both realized at the same time that he didn't have a carriage.

"It seems your transportation has wandered off, monsieur."

"No matter." Erik called, giving the Duke a confident smile. "It's a beautiful night, and I'm only staying a few blocks away."

"Oh? Where?"

"L'hotel Bristol."

"I hear they I have beautiful gardens." He commented, before being whisked away in the carriage.

"I hear they have beautiful gardens." Erik mocked. "God, what a fop. Do you really think that some women find that sort of man attractive?"

"Money is an attractive thing." She smiled. "We've backed ourselves into a bit of a corner."

"Not really. I know how to climb a fence."

Kerri nodded. "Thank you."

"For a lovely evening?"

"For an entertaining evening." She corrected. "And for not splattering the Dukes intestines all over the room."

"He was testing me, the wanker."

"Do you think you passed?"

"I hope I didn't." He snorted. For the first time, Kerri saw what he might have been like if he'd lived a normal life, free of torment and torture and pain.

"And for the record, your impression of Raoul was fantastic."

"You noticed?"

"I was the only one."

They kissed, Kerri rising up on her tiptoes to meet his lips.

"Never without an audience." He murmured when they broke."

"I forgot the landing looks right out at us."

"Will you be in trouble?"

"They'll be happy I've taken an interest in someone."

He kissed her forehead.

"Twenty minutes."

He strolled down the drive way, and for some reason, both of them felt like they had been on their first date.

Kerri shut the door behind her quietly, but jumped when her father spoke.

"He seems like a nice enough man."

"Uhuh." She nodded. Approval was good, but it was like a call girls dress; It could disappear just as fast as it was given.

"He's older."

"So is the Duke."

"But that's not a bad thing. Older men know things, as Erik has demonstrated."

"Yes."

Kerri's father nodded slowly, thinking about something.

"We should have him for dinner again sometime."

As soon as he left the foyer, Kerri raced up the stairs and into her bedroom. Erik was waiting for her, flipping through a poetry book that had been lying on the bed.

She slowly approached him, taking the book out of his hands and tossing is onto the mattress. She held his face, wanting to remove the mask. He put his hands over hers to stop her.

"Kerri, I saw the way you looked at me…"

She butted in before he could finish.

"Erik, I'm not going to lie. You look good. But this is a costume; it turns you into something you're not."

She removed the prosthetic slowly, putting it gently on the nightstand.

"There's the man I wanted to marry." She sighed.

"Wanted?"

"Yeah, before I met that Delacroix fellow, you were my top pick."

"And now?"

"There's no contest." She shook her head. "You're the winner."


	21. Chapter 21

Kerri and Erik decided that once they were married, whether with Kerri's parents permission or not, they were going to travel. Erik wanted to take her to Persia and Italy and Spain and Africa. Kerri almost died when she heard it; she could think of nothing better. Whether as a honey moon, or to avoid being arrested, Erik wanted to make Kerri happy.  
It brought a part in him out that he was unfamiliar with to know that he was the reason she was jumping about and giggling like an idiot.  
"It's called a soul." She nodded. "How does it feel to have one"  
"Terrible. Now if I have to kill you, I'll feel bad about it"  
"Well, I'm sorry I'm such an inconvenience to you." She twirled around in a new dress, one her mother had bought her for 'no real reason.' But there was a reason, Kerri just didn't care.  
"Don't you think it's even slightly odd that she bought you something you actually like"  
"Yes, I do. But I'm not going to ruin whatever she's planning by spying on her. I'm going to milk this thing"  
"But what if she's buttering you up for something"  
"Like what"  
"Like maybe they thought you would never get married, so they sold you as a slave to some British ambassador"  
"They wouldn't sell me." She snorted. But then, her mother had never bought her something she liked.  
She looked at Erik, wide-eyed. He shrugged.  
"I'm a cynic. Don't listen to me"  
She bit her lip, looking down at her outfit. It had come with jewelry and shoes. It must've been bad.  
"What do you think she's planning"  
"Do you want to find out"  
She nodded. He smiled, holding out his hand.  
"Follow me. But be quiet"  
Erik took her out into the hallway, opening a panel in the wall that revealed a narrow staircase. Kerri had been up there before; it lead to the attic.  
"Take off your shoes." He said. She threw them under an end table, and Erik led her through the passage.  
The attic ceiling was low. Erik had to bend almost in half to fit under it, and to top it off, they were walking on the narrow side of a 2x4 support beam so they wouldn't fall through the ceiling.  
There was an air vent in every room, and there were vents in the roof to allow for air exchange.  
"Wait, shh, I hear something." Erik whispered, pointing to a vent in front of them. He climbed up on a rafter to sit, and Kerri knelt down to listen in.  
"….God damn that boy, Alayna! What were you thinking, agreeing to let her choose her own husband"  
"I never thought she would actually find someone, Reynard! Honestly! I would love for her to marry you! But I can't just go back on my word"  
"You're her mother! Of course you can! That's your _job_."  
"And what am I supposed to say? 'I'm sorry Kerri, but you still have to marry the Duke. It's for the best.'? She'd hate me"  
"We all hate our parents Alayna. It's a fact of life"  
"Besides, if we force her to marry you, it won't change things. You'll never have her. She'd chop you up into little pieces"  
"Damn right." She whispered. Erik motioned for her to shut up.  
"I highly doubt that." The Duke snorted.  
"Both her father and her brothers taught her sword play and archery. She can defend herself"  
Kerri couldn't believe this. He mother was conspiring with the Duke!  
"Trust me Alayna, I have it under control. All you have to do is get rid of Erik"  
"And how am I supposed to do that"  
"Tell her she can't see him again. Kill him, for all I care"  
"Reynard, you're taking this matter entirely too seriously. It's just an infatuation"  
"No, I am not! You swore to me that I would have Kerr as my wife. I trust you Alayna. Don't make me question my judgment." The Duke left, slamming the door behind him. Erik motioned that it was time for them to leave.  
Kerri waited until they were back in her room before she started ranting.  
"I cannot believe her! How could she do that? She's my mother, for crying out loud"  
"Well, at least she feels bad about it now"  
"Apparently not enough to stop him"  
"Not everyone can be as brave as you, Kerri"  
"That's not bravery Erik, that's self-respect." She crossed her arms.  
"She was right about one thing; if he comes near me, I'll stab him in the eye"  
"He might be stronger than he looks"  
"So am I"  
"Do you remember that one morning when you were teasing me"  
"That was different, you caught me off guard"  
"That's not the point. Do you remember how close I came to raping you"  
"It wouldn't have been rape"  
"That's not the point either. The point is that it happened. It happened, and I almost raped you. Now I know you can defend yourself, but that only goes so far"  
"So I carry a knife with me all of the time." She shrugged.  
"Do you think that will be the first thing you think of? Get to the knife in my stocking under the petticoat under my skirt"  
"Erik, you're scaring me"  
"Good. I went slowly, because I wanted you to tell me to stop. It takes a few seconds for rational thinking to kick in when you feel trapped. I know that. But what I'm saying to you is that you might not have a few seconds"  
Kerri fell silent. He was right and just thinking about it made her shiver.  
"Kerri, we'll make this work." Erik said.  
"How? You said it yourself; my mother isn't going to stand up to the Duke"  
He sighed.  
"Let's run away…elope. We don't need them for a damn thing. I have a house in Nice. It's right on the beach. We can go there. They'll never find us"  
Kerri was speechless.  
"Erik, this is your home…my home"  
"No it's not. This city was never my home. The opera house was my world, and I burnt it to the ground. And you and I both know that we could live without the socialite crap"  
She smiled.  
"We could travel"  
He nodded. "If you wanted"  
She took a deep breath. It had always been her dream to see the world.  
"I'll need some time to get some things together. Three days"  
"Are you sure? We have as much time as we need"  
"Positive. Any longer, and I'll get second thoughts"  
He nodded. "Alright then. Three days"  
"Please come with us. Both of you." Kerri pleaded with Delia and Marie later that night.  
"Kerri, you know we can't. If they find us, we'll be killed." Delia had ultimately supported their decision, although she was unhappy with the means to the end.  
"But they won't find us! We're going to Italy and Spain and Africa and Persia! And Erik has an estate in Nice. No one will know us"  
"Kerri, that sounds lovely, but we can't." This is your life. And I've spent sixteen wonderful years watching you shape it. But I can't be with you forever"  
"Of course you can! You and Marie are more like family to me than my own parents! And, if you stay here, they'll throw you in jail for perjury"  
Delia's mouth fell open. "You told us where you were going on purpose"  
"Yes she did. But Delia, you're like family to us. It would be a shame to leave you here." Erik leaned against the bed post. He wanted them to come as much as Kerri did"  
"You really are such a little monkey. I have no idea why I humor you"  
"Does that mean you'll come"  
"Yes, we're coming." Delia groaned.  
Kerri squealed, hugging both women.  
"Raoul's coming over for dinner on Friday night. We'll leave while everyone is having coffee." Kerri was so excited.  
"That soon"  
"Listen, you're going to have to be waiting here for us, alright? I'm going to go down to the barn and get the carriage ready. Then I'll come back for you two and your things. Kerri is going to come back up here while we're pulling around to the front of the house. I'm going to come back for her, and then we're headed to the port. There's a ferry that leaves for Le Havre at nine o' clock. We have to be on it if we want to be en route to Africa by lunch time Saturday"  
"How long have you been planning this?" Marie raised her eyebrows at Erik.  
"Six hours." He responded.  
"I'd hate to see what you could do with twelve"  
"Probably plan out the next three days perfectly." Kerri mused.  
"Plus two days after that." He added.  
And so the plans were made. That night, Kerri laid awake, thinking about her not too distant future. 


	22. Chapter 22

Kerri sat at the breakfast table the next morning, thoughts racing.

"Kerri, what's wrong?" Her father asked after he caught her staring.

"Oh, nothing." She looked away quickly. "I was just thinking about stuff."

"Like what?" He bit into a piece of toast as he read the paper.

"My future."

"And what about your future? Where do you see yourself?"

"I don't know; it's fuzzy." She shrugged.

"You know, the Duke wants to take you to another play on Thursday."

"Tell him I am disinclined to acquiesce to his request."

"What's wrong with seeing another play?"

"Nothing; but he talked through the whole thing last time. Besides, I am allowed to say no. And anyway, I'm doing something with Erik on Thursday. I'll see the Duke on Friday, at dinner."

"What are your plans with Erik?" Her mother inquired.

"Nothing final. Lunch, a walk in the park. Maybe pay a visit to Raoul and Christine."

"Well, you'll just have to reschedule; the Duke already has tickets. You can see Erik another time."

"The Duke will have to wait. Erik and I have had plans since last Monday."

"It's not polite to make a man wait." Her mother warned.

"You're right, it's not. And Erik and I have had plans for a week. If the Duke had wanted to take me out, he should have confronted me directly. I would have told him I was busy, and he wouldn't have wasted his money."

"Kerri, you _are_ going to that play with Reynard!"

"No I'm not!"

"Yes you are. I am your mother; you will do as I say."

"Unless it isn't in my best interest." Kerri paused, collecting herself.

"I will not be going to the performance with the Duke. I have a date with Erik, give him my sincerest apologies."

Kerri left the table quietly. Her mother glared at her father from across the buffet.

"She gets it from you." She sneered.

Kerri was slowly packing her things into a suitcase. Not everything, just the important stuff, and not all at once. A few books here, a necklace there. They were also taking the violins. The thing she would miss the most was the piano. Erik assured her he had a piano at the house, but it wasn't the same. She had been playing that piano since she was eight years old.

Another part she was depressed about was not being able to say goodbye to Raoul. No matter how hard they fought, he was still her brother. At some point, she knew they would come back, but she didn't know _when_. She hated it.

"Is this all you're taking?" Erik asked, holding up a leather backpack.

"Pretty much. Why?"

"I just thought there would be more."

"Nothing else is really important to me." She paused. "But we are bringing Adonis."

"That thing hates me." Erik scoffed.

"He's bit you?"

"No."

"Then he doesn't hate you." She promised, throwing her paint set into the bag.

"Are you having second thoughts?" Erik sat down on the bed next to the bag.

"Do you want me to be having second thoughts?"

"No, but I could understand if you were."

"I am not having second thoughts."

Erik nodded. "Good. You're clear on the plan?"

"Yes."

"Wonderful." He looked at his watch.

"Oh no. Almost time for our date. I better go catch a cab." He kissed her cheek, and left the room quietly. Kerri finished packing, and put the bag under her bed. She grabbed her cloak and changed shoes.

As she was coming down the stairs, she saw that her mother had answered the door, and was trying to send Erik away. She tried to shut the door, but he put his hand out to stop her.

"She looks alright to me." He pointed, smiling. Kerri smiled back, taking the steps two at a time.

"Good afternoon."

"Good afternoon to you. Are we ready?" He held out his hand.

"Yes. Goodbye mother. I'll be back at four." She took Erik's hand and squeezed past Alayna, oblivious to the glare she was receiving. Erik helped her into the carriage, and they were off.

They went to a corner café, talking about the trip; where they would go, what they would do. They would start at Morocco, work their way across the northern half through Algeria and Egypt, then Persia, back down to Italy, across the Mediterranean to Spain, and then back up to France.

Then they went for a walk in the park, stopping at the hotel Erik was 'staying' at to see if he had any messages. He didn't. Their last stop was the ferry ticket booth. Erik bought four tickets for the last boat up the Seine the next night, and one ticket for four thirty that day so he could purchase their cruise tickets.

"I'll be back early tomorrow morning, so don't wait up for me. You'll need your energy."

Kerri nodded. This was actually going to happen. They took another cab back to the house.

Kerri and Erik stood in front of the carriage door. Her fingers were laced into his hair, and his hands were on her waist, pulling them together.

"Okay, you have to go." She giggled, breathless.

"No, I don't." He kissed her again.

"Yes you do. Go now, or you'll miss your ferry." He groaned, getting back into the carriage. Kerri ran into the house, unaware that her mother had seen the whole thing.

"Kerri, are you sure you want to do this?" Marie asked, sitting on the bed and watching her write a letter.

"Yes, I am. Why? Do you not want to go?"

"I do, but I'm wondering if you're running away for yourself or for Erik."

"I'm running away for both of us, Marie."

"Okay." She paused. "Who are you writing to?"

"My mother. I doubt she'll find it anytime soon, however."

"You're going to leave it here for her?"

"Yes. At least then she won't be able to say I didn't tell her."

Kerri laid awake for hours that night, thinking about the next day. She knew what she was going to say so she could leave the party, how she would get out, and what would happen once she did.

So why was she so nervous?


	23. Chapter 23

She awoke early the next morning to find Erik in a deep sleep next to her. She went down to breakfast as normal, but barely ate anything. Her stomach felt weird.

"Kerri dear, are you sure you're feeling alright." Her father asked.

"I'm just not in the mood for eggs, that's all." She drank her orange juice just to make him happy. She tried to keep her mind off of the night's events, but no matter what, thoughts broke through. Not necessarily bad ones, just nerves; her head trying to get her to be rational.

By two o' clock, she had resorted to pacing like a caged tiger.

"Kerri, sit down. Stop worrying. We'll be fine."

"I can't sit. My head won't let me."

Erik pulled her into his lap, holding her down when she tried to get up.

"Kerri, everything is going to be okay. I've spent my life plotting. Nothing will go wrong."

"I know that, but I just need to pace. It's a nerves thing."

"Well, _your_ nerves thing is irking _my_ nerves thing."

"_You_ have a nervous tic?"

"Yes, I do."

She laughed. "That amuses me."

"Well, I'm very happy for you."

Kerri laid her head on his shoulder.

"Are you ready?" He asked.

"No."

"Neither am I."

"But you planned this whole thing!"

"I'm still a cynic. Especially when it comes to myself."

"That's kind of depressing."

Erik nodded. "You haven't had to live with it."

"Well, we'll just have to break you of that habit."

"And how do you plan on doing that?"

"With lots of this."

She kissed him fervently, pushing him back onto the mattress. He let his hands wander all over her body, pulling her up so that they were level.

"Kerri, Raoul's waiting for you downstairs." Marie shouted. Kerri broke the kiss almost violently, straightening herself out.

"You're leaving me for your brother?" Erik exclaimed.

"This is the last day I'll get to see him for who knows how long. Of course I am."

"Are you going to tell him?"

"I'm not that naïve." She snorted.

"Raoul!"

"She jumped into his arms, causing him to stagger backwards.

"Hello to you too, Kerri." He chuckled, hugging her back.

"I take it you missed me."

"You have _no_ idea." She let go of him slowly.

"Mother told me about meeting Erik."

Kerri nodded. "They loved him."

"Are you really going to go through with all of this?"

"All of what?"

"Marrying him."

"Yes, I am."

He shook his head, but didn't argue.

"Why did you say that Christine and I knew him?"

"Because you do."

"Not in the way mom assumed."

"She shouldn't assume things."

"You shouldn't lie."

"I didn't lie!"

"You said that you met Erik through us, Kerri."

"I did. I followed you and found him."

Raoul snorted.

"You're such a twerp." He ruffled her hair. "Come on, we're going shopping."

"Why?"

"Christine's birthday is coming up soon, and I have _no_ idea what to get her."

"And you think that I do?"

"No, but you're coming anyway. You need to get out of the house."

"Alright, let me go tell Erik."

She ran back upstairs to grab her cloak and inform Erik that they would be back later.

In truth, Kerri was glad to have a distraction. It kept her mind on birthdays and off of dinner.

They ended up purchasing a very nice earring/necklace combination, with her birthstone set in it, along with some other things.

"So what are your plans for Erik?"

"What do you mean?"

"I doubt mom will be thrilled when she hears you've been engaged for a few months. How will you tell her?"

"I'm still working on it."

"Tell me you're not going to marry him and then tell her."

"No! She'd kill me."

"I know." He nodded. "That's why I asked."

"Where are you going to go?"

"Assuming we get married?"

He nodded.

Kerri preoccupied herself with a cart of pastries on the street.

"Nice."

"That's a long way away."

"I know. But that's where Erik has a house." She paused.

"Why do you care?"

"Because you're my younger sister. It's my job to care."

"He's not trying to break us up, if that's what you're thinking."

"Then what _is_ he doing?"

"Raoul, we both want to leave the city. He has a house in Nice. It makes sense that that's where we would go."

"You could find someplace closer."

"Raoul, I don't want closer. I want peace. Away from mom, away from the Duke…"

"Away from me?"

"No. You I will actually miss."

He smiled.

"Good. Let's keep it that way." He held out his hand.

"A truce. No going back on it, no overreacting or chopping each others heads off."

Kerri grinned.

"I would accept, but I'm not the one you have to peace-talk with."

"I thought you might say that."

Kerri was tapping her feet under the dinner table. She ate and drank quietly, answering everyone's questions. If she was being this civil, they would know she wasn't feeling well. Which meant she would get to leave after dinner.

It was raining outside, but Kerri took that as a sign of good luck. She liked rain, and it made things harder to see in the dark.

She wanted to go, God damn it! Why was everything taking so long? Even the candles burned slower. Finally, everyone was finished. They talk some more, topped off the wine in their systems. When she felt enough time had passed, she spoke.

"Mother, I don't think the fish agreed with me. May I go lie down?"

"Yes." Alayna was still angry with her for leaving with Erik. That suited her just fine.

She took her time going up to her room, trying to remember everything about the house. It may have seemed silly, but Kerri hadn't known any place else. It would feel weird to leave.

She raced around her room, changing into a simpler dress and putting on her cloak. Erik opened the door quietly, waiting for her.

"Hold on just a minute Erik. I think Delia moved my bag." She looked under her bed frantically.

"You were expecting monsieur Delacroix? What for?"

Kerri gasped.

It wasn't Erik.

"I could ask you the same question." She swallowed hard, standing up slowly. Weapon…weapon….there was a pen on her desk. If she could move him over that way….

"By now Kerri, you have realized my intentions to marry you." He approached her, but she moved so that she was near the door. But she didn't have her bag. She wouldn't leave without her bag.

"And you've realized mine to say no."

"So it appears that one of us is going to have to give in." the Duke moved again. So did she.

"Your mother was right; you know swordplay." He commented on their footwork. Now she was near the desk, but he was on the other side of the room.

"I'm prepared to accept your apologies, Duke."

"For what?"

"For coming into my room uninvited, invading my personal space, and threatening me."

"I haven't threatened you."

"You're thinking it."

He smiled, taking a step towards her.

"I can think whatever I want about my wife. That's the beauty of this arrangement."

"I am not your wife."

"Not yet you aren't." He ran towards her, but she stepped out of the way, grabbing a pitcher of water and breaking it over his back.

"Never rush your opponent." She said, moving to the other side of the room. Where the hell was Erik?

"Kerri, you _are_ going to marry me. I'll make sure of that."

He had backed her into a corner between the bed and her nightstand.

"You can try." She would never let him know that he scared the crap out of her.

His eyes suddenly rolled into the back of his head, and he collapsed into a heap.

Erik stood behind him, blunt end of a candelabra in hand.

"Oh my God! Is he okay?" As much of a pervert as he was, Kerri really didn't feel comfortable with him dying on her bedroom floor.

"He's not dead, if that's what you mean." Erik dropped the weapon. "Come on, we have to go."

"Wait! Where's my bag?"

In the carriage. Come on! We only have a half an hour."

Erik pulled her out of the room and down the stairs. The tea room door was cracked open, but no one was sitting within its view. They snuck past it, crouching low. Erik was soaking wet, and Kerri was afraid his boots would squeak on the marble floors.

Finally they made it out the door, running for the carriage.

"Kerri?"

She stopped just short of the door, her freedom. She turned around slowly, and found herself looking at Raoul.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"I can't tell you. Just please, let me go."

"Not until you tell me what's wrong."

Tears started welling up.

"You can figure it out, Raoul. But um, the Duke…he's unconscious on my bedroom floor."

"Did he hurt you?"

Kerri shook her head. "No."

"Did Erik put you up to this?"

"No!"

She ran to him and threw her arms around his neck.

"You have to let me go, Raoul. Just please let me go." She whispered. He hugged her tightly.

"This would all make so much more sense if you would just tell me what's going on."

"I can't tell you. I wish I could, but I can't…" She let him go slowly, sobbing.

"Kerri." Erik called, holding the door open for her. Adonis barked.

"One second." She hugged him again.

"I'll write."

She ran to the carriage, climbing in and shutting the door behind her. The coach raced off into the night, leaving Raoul confused, wet, and alone.


	24. Bibliography

I realize that there are many quotes in this story that some people might recognize. So, credit shall be given where it is due. They aren't listed in any real chronological order, just in the order I found them.

Abarat

The Day is words and rage.

The Day is order, earth, and gold.

It is the philosophers in their cities;

It is the map-makers in their wastelands.

It is roads and milestones,

It is panic, laughter, and sobriety;

White, and all enumerated things.

It is flesh, it is revenge; it is visibility.

The Night is blue and black.

The Night is silence, poetry, and love.

It is the dancers in their grove of bones,

It is all transforming things.

It is fate; it is freedom.

It is masks and silver and ambiguity,

It is blood; it is forgiveness;

It is the invisible music of instinct.

-C.B.

Abarat

Journey to the end of day,

Come the fire-fly,

Come the moon;

Say a prayer for God's good grace

And sleep with love upon your face.

-C.B.

Abarat

Here is a list of fearful things:

The jaws of sharks, a vultures wings,

The rabid bite of the dogs of war,

The voice of one who went before.

But most of all the mirrors gaze,

Which counts us out our numbered days.

-C.B

Abarat

"A good man in an evil society seems the greatest villain of all."

-English Proverb

"No thoughts within her head but thoughts of joy…no dreams within her heart but dreams of love."

-Don Juan Triumphant

I live through my dark existence  
only to bask in your beauty  
your eyes that shine like sapphires  
your smile that brightens even my sad existence  
I envy the wind that runs through your hair  
that touches your lips  
I long to touch you  
to hold you in my arms but I cannot  
for your heart belongs to another  
so, I can only love you from afar  
your friendship means more to me  
than anything this world provides  
but like an angel you touched my heart  
in a way that I've never felt before  
cause I've never known what love is until this day  
I know that we are only friends  
but my heart wishes it to be more  
so I will still hope and dream  
that one day I can feel your lips pressed to mine  
to hold you in my arms and say, "I love you"

-"Lonely Shadow"

_My Gift to You_

Take my hand and lead the way;  
tell me all you want to say.  
Whisper softly in my ear,  
all those things I want to hear.  
Kiss my lips and touch my skin;  
bring out passions deep within.  
Pull me close and hold me near;  
take away my pain and fear.  
In the darkness of the night,  
be my beacon, shine your light.  
In the brightness of the sun,  
show me that you are the one.  
Give me wings so I can fly;  
for I can soar when you're nearby.  
Enter my heart, break down the wall,  
it's time for me to watch it fall.  
I've been a prisoner, can't you see?  
Break my chains and set me free.  
Strip me of my armor tight;  
you'll find I won't put up a fight.  
Release my soul held deep within . . .  
I'm ready now, let love begin.

-_Ready For Love_

NOTE! Asher isn't mine. I wish he was, but he isn't. Laurell K. Hamilton, a great author, created him. I just took the body, switched the story around a little bit. Don't hate me! 

Never knew I could feel like this  
Like I've never seen the sky before  
I want to vanish inside your kiss  
Every day I'm loving you more and more  
Listen to my heart, can you hear it sings  
Telling me to give you everything  
Seasons may change, winter to spring  
But I love you until the end of time

Come what may  
Come what may  
I will love you until my dying day

Suddenly the world seems such a perfect place  
Suddenly it moves with such a perfect grace  
Suddenly my life doesn't seem such a waste  
It all revolves around you  
And there's no mountain too high  
No river too wide  
Sing out this song I'll be there by your side  
Storm clouds may gather  
And stars may collide  
But I love you until the end of time

Come what may  
Come what may  
I will love you until my dying day

-Ewan McGregor/ Nicole Kidman

_Come What May_

"I am disinclined to acquiesce to your request." 

-Captain Barbossa

_Pirates of the Caribbean_


End file.
